9 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


f. 


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in  2008  with  funding  from 

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IC*   ML  ]K 


'IBilSHSIE: 


omiw 


)KtftFO[LE[S)  W^&m  TKIl  HESTT 


f^yTiy 


HARPER     &     BROTHERS 


BEAUTIES 


FRENCH    HISTORY. 


BY  THE   AUTHOR  OP 


"  THE  BEAUTIES  OF  ENGLISH  HISTORY," 
"  AMERICAN  HISTORY,"  &c. 


NEW    YORK. 

HARPER  &   BROTHERS,  PUBLISHERS, 
82   CLIFF    STREET. 

18  40. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1846,  by 

Harper  &  Brothers, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  Southern  District  of  New- York. 


DC 


3^ 
CONTENTS. 


Ancient  Gaul,              ...  .9 

Clovis,      .....  13 

Thierry,  Clodmir,  Childibert,  and  Clotaire,  .       16 

Caribert,  Gontran,  Sigebert,  and  Cliilperic,  20 

Clolaire  tlie  Second,   .             .             .  .22 

Diagobert  and  Aribert,      ...  22 

Sigebert  the  Second  and  Clovis  the  Second,  .      23 

Pepin  the  Short,     ....  27 

Charles  and  Carloman,            .             .  .28 

Louis  the  First,     ....  34 

Charles  the  Second,     .             .             .  .36 
Louis  the  Second,  Louis  the  Third,  Carloman, 

and  Charles  the  Third,    .             .  .36 
Eudes  or  Odo,  Charles  the  Simple,  Raoul,  Louis 
the  Fourth, Lothaire  the  Second,  and  Louis 

the  Fifth,      ....  38 

Hugh  Capet,  .             .            ,            ,  .39 

Robert,     .             .             ,            ,            ,.  40 

Henry  the  First,          .            .            ,  .41 

Philip  the  First,    ....  43 

8689-iG  "^ 


IV 


CONTENTS. 


Louis  the  Sixth, 
Louis  the  Seventh, 
Philip  the  Second, 
Louis  the  Eighth, 
Louis  the  Ninth 
Philip  the  Third, 
Philip  the  Fourth, 
Philip  the  Fifth, 
Charles  the  Fourth, 
Philip  the  Sixth, 
John  the  Second, 
Charles  the  Fifth, 
Charles  the  Sixth, 
Charles  the  Seventh, 
Louis  the  eleventh, 
Charles  the  Eighth, 
Louis  the  Twelfth, 
Francis  the  First, 
Henry  the  Second, 
Francis  the  Second, 
Charles  the  Ninth, 
Henry  the  Third, 
Henry  the  Fourth, 
Louis  the  Thirteenth, 
Louis  the  Fourteenth, 
Louis  the  Fifteenth, 
Louis  the  Sixteenth, 


CONTENTS.  V 

ANECDOTES  OF  NAPOLEON. 

Page 
The  Battle  of  Lodi,  .  .  .230 

Napoleons  presence  of  mind  at  the  Bridge 

of  Lodi,       .  .  .  .231 

The  Bridge  of  Areola,  .  .  .232 

The  Pioneer,  .  .         233 

Milan, 234 

The  sleeping  Sentinel,        .  .  .         235 

Le  Petit  Corporal,       .  .  .  .    237 

The  Restorer  of  the  city  of  Lyons,         .  237 

The  Battle  of  Marengo,  .  .  .239 

Napoleon  wounded  in  Italy  and  other  places,  240 
His  generosity  to  the  veteran  general  Wurmser,  242 
Mount  St.  Bernard,  .  .  .  244 

His  employment  of  time,         .  .  .     245 

His  proclamation  before  landing  in  Egypt,  245 

Disembarkation  of  the  French  troops  in  Egypt,  247 
Napoleons  alarm  on  his  arrival  in  Alexandria,  248 
Gaiety  of  the  French  soldiery,       .  .  249 

Turkish  humanity  towards  the  French  army 

in  Egypt,       ....  250 

His  return  from  Egypt,  .  .  .    252 

•1 


PREFACE. 


The  Beauties  of  History  consist,  of  course,  in  a 
display  of  its  most  illustrious  characters  and  its  most 
instructive  events. 

The  object  of  the  present  volume  is  to  afford,  ac- 
companied by  historical  data,  as  correct  an  idea  as 
could  be  preserved  within  a  space  necessarily  limited, 
of  the  most  remarkable  circumstances  that  have  taken 
place,  and  the  most  extraordinary  men  who  have 
flourished  in  the  kingdom  of  France,  from  the  earliest 
period  of  its  history  to  the  times  in  which  we  live. 

And,  it  is  presumed,  that,  while  contributing  to 
their  amusement,  especial  care  has  been  taken  to  add 
to  the  information  of  the  young, 

"  History  is  philosophy  teaching  by  example ;"  and 
the  following  pages  may  supply  many  an  excellent 

(7) 


via  PREFACE. 

lesson  to  those  who  desire  that,  while  amused,  they 
should  also  be  improved ;  that  Pleasure  should  be  at 
all  times  the  handmaid  of  Knowledge,  and  onlj  wel- 
come when  she  visits  in  company  with  her  more 
valuable  associate. 


BEAUTIES 


FRENCH  HISTORY. 


ANCIENT  GAUL. 

Of  the  earliest  boundaries  of  ancient  Gaul,  and 
the  condition  of  its  inhabitants,  we  have  no  satisfac- 
tory accounts.  But  it  is  probable  that,  from  the  in- 
ternal struggles  in  which  the  latter  were  perpetually- 
involved,  its  limits  were  continually  changing ;  and 
it  is  certain  that  the  aborigines  were  an  enterprising 
and  warlike  people,  frequently  emigrating  in  search 
of  new  settlements,  which  they  obtained  and  defend- 
ed by  their  swords  ;  and  that  they  became  at  length  so 
formidable,  as  to  turn  their  arms  even  against  Rome, 
which  they  took,  and  destroyed  by  fire. 

In  time,  however,  their  military  spirit  was  subdued ; 
their  neighbours,  on  all  sides,  becoming  also  nume- 
rous and  brave,  they  were  confined  to  what  was  more 
properly  their  own  dominion,  and  discord  and  hos- 

9 


10  BEAUTIES  OF 

tilities  at  home  now  took  the  place  of  conquests 
abroad ;  until,  divided  against  themselves,  the  con- 
querors were,  in  their  turn,  the  conquered,  and  yield- 
ed to  victorious  Rome.  Vanquished  by  the  legions 
of  Julius  Caesar,  Gaul  sunk  into  a  tributary  province 
of  the  imperial  city. 

But  when  the  Roman  empire,  which  had  stretched 
its  enormous  arms  over  the  three  quarters  of  the 
globe,  fell  under  the  weight  of  its  eagerly  gathered 
burdens,  and  from  being  the  mistress  of  the  world, 
became  the  despised  prey  of  successive  hordes  of 
northern  barbarians,  Gaul — sluggish  and  paralyzed^ 
afforded  an  easy  conquest  to  the  Visigoths,  who  sub- 
sequently gave  way  before  the  braver  and  more  hardy 
Franks. 

The  native  Gauls  are  represented  as  tall  and  fair ; 
their  hair  inclining  to  red ;  their  eyes  blue,  sharp,  and 
fierce ;  and  their  temper  irritable  and  haughty.  They 
are  said  to  have  been  so  grave  at  an  early  period  of 
their  history,  that  when  a  Grecian  dancer  appeared 
in  the  theatre  to  show  his  art,  they  went  out,  calling 
it  a  species  of  insanity.  The  women  are  described 
as  handsome,  rather  attentive  to  dress,  and  remarka- 
bly neat  and  clean  in  their  persons.  The  heads  of 
their  slaves  Avere  shaved ;  and  shaven  or  shorn  hair 
became  a  mark  of  servitude  and  degradation ;  but 
freemen  combed  their  long  hair  backwards  from  their 
brow  to  the  neck,  and  again  raising  it  upwards  and 
forwards,  formed  it  into  a  tuft  at  the  top  of  the  head. 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  11 

Men  of  superior  rank  shaved  their  cheeks  only,  leav- 
ing large  whiskers  or  moustaches. 

The  religion  of  the  Gauls  was  that  of  the  darkest 
and  grossest  idolatry.  Their  priests,  the  druids, 
were  considered  the  only  depositaries  of  knowledge; 
and  they  guided  and  ruled  the  people  with  almost 
absolute  poAver.  Their  persons  were  held  sacred; 
they  were  universally  and  implicitly  obeyed ;  it  was 
their  exclusive  privilege  to  reward  or  punish,  and 
from  their  sentence  there  was  no  appeal.  The  arch- 
druid,  their  head,  was  chosen  by  the  priesthood;  but 
the  election  to  this  office  was  not  unfrequently  de- 
cided by  arms.  The  druidesses,  of  whom  there  were 
many,  rivalled  the  priests  in  influence,  and  surpassed 
them  in  crime.  The  chief  doctrines  of  druidism 
■were,  the  immortality  and  transmigration  of  souls, 
and  the  existence  and  power  of  the  gods :  their  prin- 
ciples and  tenets  were  preserved  in  verses,  which 
their  disciples  committed  to  memory.  They  indulged 
in  human  sacrifices  to  excess,  often  confining  a  great 
number  of  living  men  and  women  in  enormous  images 
formed  of  woven  twigs,  which  they  set  on  fire,  and 
thus  consumed  the  unhappy  victims.  After  the  Ro- 
man conquest,  the  power  of  the  druids  considerably 
decreased ;  their  rites  and  ceremonies  were  abolished 
by  law,  and  the  deities  and  worship  of  Rome  intro- 
duced into  Gaul. 

Christianity,  however,  made  its  way  among  them 
at  a  very  early  period,  since  it  is  more  than  probable 


12  BEAUTIES  OF 

that  the  Gospel  was  preached  in  Gaul  by  some  of 
the  apostles  themselves;  though  the  first  Christian 
teacher  upon  record  appeared  there  about  the  end  of 
the  second  century.  Christianity,  from  this  time, 
spread  with  astonishing  rapidity;  but  the  change  was 
one  of  profession  merely,  not  of  heart  and  life ;  for  the 
priests  were  so  openly  profligate,  as  in  the  year  314 
to  call  forth  a  decree  from  the  council  of  Aries,  for- 
bidding the  clergy  to  perform  in  the  theatres,  to  ap- 
pear as  charioteers  in  the  race,  or  to  bear  arms  as  sol- 
diers. Litde  could  be  expected  from  the  people,  when 
their  Christian  pastors  were  in  such  a  degraded  state 
as  is  demonstrated  by  these  facts. 

The  Franks  invaded  Gaul  from  the  trackless  wilds 
and  deep  forests  of  Germany,  allured  thither  by  the 
prospect  of  obtaining  a  more  fertile  and  productive 
land  on  easy  terms.  Under  their  successive  kings, 
Pharamond,  Clodio,  Merovee,  and  Childeric,  they  had 
gradually  increased  in  power,  until,  in  the  reign  of 
Clovis,  the  grandson  of  Merovee,  and  the  son  of  Chil- 
deric, they  found  themselves  strong  enough  to  make 
a  successful  attempt  on  their  now  passive  and  pros- 
perous neighbours.  At  this  period  of  its  history,  the 
Romans  possessed  but  nominal  jurisdiction  in  Gaul; 
Syagrius,  the  governor  of  the  province,  having  as- 
sumed the  style  and  exercised  the  prerogatives  of  an 
independent  sovereign. 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  13 

CLOVIS, 

THE  FIRST  KING  OF  FRANCE. 

Clovis,  to  whom  belongs  the  honour  of  founding 
the  French  monarchy,  became  king  of  the  Franks  in 
481,  when  his  age  was  but  fifteen.  In  the  year  486, 
he  crossed  the  Rhine,  at  the  head  of  an  army,  esti- 
mated by  some  historians  at  3000,  and  by  others  at 
30,000,  fighting  men;  whose  habits  were  warlike, 
whose  business  was  war,  and  whose  only  property 
was  spoil.  A  battle  took  place  near  Soissons,  the  re- 
sidence of  the  Roman  governor,  in  which  he  was 
completely  routed.  The  whole  country  between  the 
Rhine  and  the  Loire  speedily  submitted  to  the  con- 
queror, who  relinquished  all  thonght  of  returning  to 
the  woods  and  marshes  of  Germany,  and  bestowed 
upon  his  new  kingdom  the  name  of  France.  It  may 
be  necessary  to  observe,  that  several  large  districts  of 
the  country,  which  are  now  only  French  provinces, 
were  then  separate  realms,  and  had  each  their  own 
monarchs;  as,  Tourraine,  Anjou,  Brittany,  Thou- 
louse,  &c. 

Clovis  made  the  best  use  of  his  victory,  by  gain- 
ing the  goodwill  of  his  future  subjects,  and  endea- 
vouring to  conciliate  the  Christian  clergy.  An  anec- 
dote is  related  of  him,  which  at  once  exhibits  a 
striking  feature  in  his  character,  and  shows  the  course 
2 


14  BEAUTIES  OF 

of  policy  he  deemed  it  prudent  to  adopt.  Among  the 
plunder  he  had  collected  was  a  sacred  vessel  of  great 
worth  and  beauty,  which  had  been  taken  from  the 
church  at  Rheims.  The  bishop,  Remigius,  express- 
ing great  concern  at  its  loss,  the  king  requested  it  to 
be  included  in  his  share  of  ihe  booty,  which,  accord- 
ing to  custom,  was  about  to  be  divided  among  the 
army  by  lots.  The  soldiers  cheerfully  consented ; 
but  one  fellow  raised  his  battle-axe  and  struck  the 
vessel,  telling  his  leader,  that  he  should  have  no  more 
than  his  just  proportion.  Clovis  checked  his  wrath 
at  the  time ;  but  a  year  afterwards,  when  his  autho- 
rity had  become  less  precarious,  at  a  review  of  the 
troops,  he  designedly  remarked,  that  the  arms  of  this 
soldier  were  in  bad  order,  and  taking  his  battle-axe, 
threw  it  on  the  ground.  As  the  man  w'as  stooping 
to  pick  it  up,  the  king  hit  him  mortally  on  the  head, 
saying,  "  Thus  you  struck  the  vessel  at  Soissons." 

At  Soissons,  Clovis  establislied  the  seat  of  his  go- 
vernment ;  and  in  the  year  493  married  Clotilda,  the 
niece  of  Gondebaud,  king  of  Burgundy,  by  whom 
both  her  parents  had  been  treacherously  murdered. 
She  was  a  Christian,  and  was,  consequently,  highly 
acceptable  to  the  great  body  of  the  people,  by  whom 
the  Christian  religion  was  professed.  Under  her  in- 
fluence, the  king  gradually  imbibed  the  doctrines  in 
which  she  believed ;  and  an  opportunity  was  not  long 
wanting  to  carry  this  predisposition  of  the  monarch 
into  effect.     During  a  battle  fought  at  Tolbiac,  be- 


FRENCH  HISTORT.  15 

tween  the  Franks  and  some  of  their  German  neigh- 
bours, the  former  were  giving  way  and  in  confusion, 
when  the  king  was  heard  to  exclaim,  "  O  God  of 
Clotilda,  if  tliou  wilt  grant  me  this  victory,  I  will 
have  no  God  but  thee  !"  Immediately  his  army  ral- 
lied, and  he  gained  a  signal  triumph.  Clovis  kept 
his  vow,  and  was  shortly  afterwards,  with  3000  of 
his  followers,  baptized  by  the  bishop  of  Rheims  with 
great  pomp  and  ceremony.  His  conversion,  however, 
was  one  of  form,  rather  than  spirit,  the  neophite  ap- 
pearing but  little  acquainted  with  the  nature  of  Chris- 
tianity ;  for  soon  after  his  baptism,  when  the  prelate 
was  detailing  to  him  the  sufferings  of  the  Saviour 
at  Jerusalem,  with  characteristic  eagerness,  he  ex- 
claimed, "  Oh !  why  was  I  not  there,  with  my  Franks, 
to  fight  for  him  ?" 

Clovis  was  brave  in  action,  and  skilful  in  govern- 
ing ;  but  he  was  cruel  and  treacherous,  seldom  stay- 
ing even  his  own  hand,  when  he  considered  it  expe- 
dient to  remove  an  adversary  out  of  the  way,  and 
invariably  acting  upon  the  principle. 

That  they  should  take  who  have  the  power, 
And  they  should  keep  who  can. 

There  was,  nevertheless,  a  kind  of  rude  justice  blend- 
ed even  with  his  worst  acts.  Having  engaged  the 
son  of  the  king  of  Cologne  to  murder  his  aged  and 
infirm  father,  he  soon  after  caused  the  son  himself  to 
be  put  to  death ;  and  upon  another  occasion,  when 


16  BEAUTIES  OP 

he  had  procured  the  assassination  of  a  dangerous 
rival,  by  the  promise  of  a  large  bribe,  he  gave  the 
assassins  gilded  money  instead  of  gold,  observing,  it 
was  the  only  recompense  murderers  deserved. 

The  bitterness  of  religious  parties,  even  at  this 
early  period,  was  the  cause  of  much  strife  and  blood- 
shed. Arianism  and  Catholicism  divided  the  French 
people;  and  Clovis,  under  pretence  of  eradicating  the 
former  from  his  own  dominions,  as  well  as  those  of 
his  neighbours,  waged  a  destructive  and  protracted 
war;  the  only  effect  of  which  was,  making  the  op- 
pressed cling  more  firmly  to  their  faith,  and  giving 
them  more  deadly  cause  of  hatred  towards  their  op- 
pressors. 

Still,  the  first  king  of  France  enjoyed  what  is 
termed  a  prosperous  reign;  overcame  every  difficulty 
tliat  encompassed  him ;  was  invested  with  the  dignity 
of  a  patrician  robe  and  diadem  by  the  Emperor  of 
the  East  (Anastasius,  who  continued  to  assume  an 
imaginary  right  over  the  regions  of  the  West) ;  and 
died  A.D.  511,  in  the  forty-fifth  year  of  his  age  and 
the  thirtieth  of  his  reign,  leaving  his  dominions,  ac- 
cording to  the  practice  of  the  time,  equally  divided 
among  his  four  sons, 

THIERRY,  CLODOMIR,  CHILDEBERT,  AND  CLOTAIRE  ; 

The  first  of  whom  Inherited  the  kingdom  of  Metz,  or 
Austrasia;  the  second  that  of  Orleans;  the  third  that 
of  Paris;  and  the  fourth  that  of  Soissons — the  eldest 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  17 

beino-  twenty-eight,  and  the  youngest  twelve  years 
of  age.   The  three  younger  brothers  joined  their  arms, 
and  made  an  attack  on  Sigismond,  duke  of  Burgundy, 
whose  forces  were  routed,  and  himself,  after  a  variety 
of  wanderings  and  much  suffering,  betrayed  to  his 
enemies,  who  cruelly  put  him  to  death,  together  with 
his  queen  and  two  sons.      From  this  period,  the 
duchy  of  Burgundy  was  subject  to  the  power  of 
France,  and  ceased  to  be  an  independent  sovereignty. 
During  the  war  between  the  Burgundians  and  the 
three  brothers,  one  of  them,  Clodomir,  was  slain. 
He  had  three  sons  who  ought  to  have  inherited  his 
kingdom  of  Orleans ;  but,  unhappily,  a  diiferent  fate 
awaited  them.     They  were  left  under  the  care  of 
their  grandmother,  the  Queen  Clotilda,  who  honoured 
them  as  their  father's  representatives,  and  exerted  her- 
self to  secure  for  them  his  dominions.     Her  affec- 
tionate attention  to  their  interests  served  only  to  ex- 
cite the  jealousy  and  ambition  of  their  uncles,  Chil- 
debert  and  Clotaire,  who  had  formed  the  design  of 
seizing,  and  dividing  between  themselves,  the  king- 
dom of  their  nephews;  only  hesitating  as  to  whether 
they  should  put  them  to  death,  or,  by  ordering  their 
hair  to  be  cropped,  disqualify  them,  according  to  an 
established  custom,  from  ever  being  eligible  to  reign. 
The  former  course  was  resolved  upon.     The  kings 
met  at  Paris,  and  immediately  sent  for  the  children, 
under  pretence  of  arranging  about  their  respective 
realms ;  the  two  elder  of  whom  set  out  on  their  fatal 
2* 


18  BEAUTIES  OF 

journey.  On  arriving  in  the  presence  of  their  un- 
cles, their  attendants  were  dismissed,  and  a  messenger 
despatched  to  the  queen-dowager,  to  whom  he  pre- 
sented a  nalied  sword  and  a  pair  of  scissors,  asking 
her  which  she  preferred, -the  degradation  or  death  of 
her  grandsons.  In  the  agitation  of  her  mind,  and 
the  bitterness  of  her  grief,  she  answered,  "  better  let 
them  die  than  live  unfit  to  reign."  Her  words  were 
faithfully  reported  to  the  kings;  and  the  barbarous 
Clotaire  no  sooner  heard  them,  than  he  seized  the 
eldest  boy,  threw  him  on  the  ground,  and  plunged  a 
dagger  in  his  breast.  The  younger  child  screamed 
fearfully,  and  flew  for  protection  to  the  arms  of  his 
other  uncle,  Childebert,  who,  more  merciful,  fell  at 
his  brother's  feel,  and  with  tears  besought  him  to  save 
their  nephew's  life.  "  Throw  him  from  you,"  was 
the  reply,  "  or  perish  with  him.  Did  not  the  pro- 
posal come  from  you,  and  will  you  now  oppose  it.'" 
The  cowardly  Childebert  flung  the  boy  from  him,  and 
he  was  caught  by  the  reeking  knife  of  the  brutal  Clo- 
taire. The  third  nephew  had  his  hair  shorn,  and  was 
placed  in  a  monastery ;  and  the  murderers  divided  be- 
tween them  the  kingdom  of  Orleans. 

Although  Thierry,  the  elder  brother,  did  not  stain 
his  hands  with  the  blood  of  his  nephews,  he  sanc- 
tioned their  murder  by  sharing  in  the  spoil ;  and,  by 
an  act  of  the  deepest  treachery,  proved  that  he  was 
also  capable  of  any  crime.  He  was  at  war  v/hh  a 
chieftain  named  Munderic,  who  held  possession  of  a 


FKENCH  HISTORY.  19 

fortilied  town  of  considerable  strength  ;  but  the  dread 
of  famine  induced  the  besieged  to  surrender,  under 
a  solemn  pledge  from  Thierry,  that  his  life,  and  the 
lives  of  his  followers,  should  be  preserved.  Munde- 
ric  passed  without  the  walls,  and  mingled  among  the 
soldiers  of  the  king,  whose  artful  emissary  addressed 
them,  saying,  "  Why  do  you  so  gaze  on  Munderic  ?" 
This  was  the  signal  for  his  destruction ;  but  Munde- 
ric perceived  the  treachery  in  time  to  strike  the  trai- 
tor mortally  with  his  lance,  exclaiming,  "I  die;  but 
you  shall  die  before  me."  Then  rushing  upon  the 
soldiers,  he  slew  several ;  till,  at  last  overcome  by 
numbers,  he  fell,  covered  with  wounds. 

By  the  deaths  of  his  brothers  and  their  chddren, 
or  the  operation  of  the  Salic  law,  which  prevents  the 
accession  of  females  to  the  throne,  Clotaire  became, 
like  his  father  Clovis,  sole  king  of  France.  But  the 
poisoned  chalice  was  returned  to  his  own  lips. 
Chramnes,  his  favourite  son,  rebelled  against  him, 
was  defeated,  and  taken  prisoner,  with  his  wife  and 
two  daughters.  They  were  shut  up  in  the  cottage  in 
which  they  had  taken  refuge,  and,  by  the  command 
of  his  own  father,  were  consumed  by  fire.  The 
wretched  king,  shocked  at  tbe  too  prompt  obe- 
dience of  his  order,  became  a  prey  to  the  deepest 
grief;  and  sought,  in  vain,  relief  from  the  weight  of 
a  guilty  conscience,  by  rich  presents  to  the  clergy 
and  offerings  to  the  saints.  He  lived  merciless  and 
depraved,  and  died  hated  and  despised ;  affording  au 


20  BEAUTIES  OF 

awful  lesson  to  his  successors  and  to  mankind,  that 
sated  ambition  and  unlimited  poAver,  Avhen  ill-ob- 
tained, are  the  certain  paths  to  that  most  fearful  of  all 
miseries,  remorse. 

Clotaire,  whose  death  by  fever  took  place  in  562, 
also  left  four  sons, 

CARIBERT,  GONTRAN,  SIGEBERT,  AND  CHILPERIC  ; 

And  among  these  four  monarchs  the  kingdom  of 
France  was  divided ;  that  of  Paris  falling  to  the  eld- 
est by  lot.  Caribert  died  after  a  brief  reign.  Sige- 
bert  married  Brunechild,  the  daughter  of  the  king  of 
the  Visigoths ;  and  Chilperic  had  taken  a  wife,  named 
Fredegonde,  from  the  lowest  class  of  his  subjects — 
a  beautiful,  but  exceedingly  artful  and  wicked  wo- 
man. By  the  advice  of  his  brother  he  agreed  to  put 
her  away,  and  solicited  and  received  the  hand  of  Gal- 
swinda,  the  sister  of  Brunechild ;  the  unhappy  lady 
was,  however,  treacherously  murdered ;  and  Chilpe- 
ric took  back  Fredegonde  as  his  queen,  although  the 
charge  of  having  strangled  Galsvvinda  was  clearly 
proved  against  her.  This  gave  rise  to  a  bloody  and 
long-protracted  war  between  the  brothers ;  and  the 
machinations  of  the  infamous  Fredegonde  procured 
the  murder  of  Sigebert.  She  engaged  two  assassins 
to  commit  the  deed.  "  Here,"  said  she  (givmg  them 
two  poisoned  arrows)  "  are  the  only  means  of  deli- 
vering your  king  and  country.  If  you  succeed,  no 
reward  can  be  too  great  for  you ;  if  you  die,  it  will 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  21 

be  ill  a  patriotic  and  good  cause ;  and  the  reward 
shall  be  given  to  your  families."  They  accordingly 
went  to  Sigebcrt's  camp,  demanded  an  audience  on 
pretence  of  business,  and  plunged  the  arrows  in  his 
breast.  The  villains  met  with  the  summary  punish- 
ment their  bloody  deed  deserved,  and  were  torn  to 
pieces  by  his  guards.  She  also  caused  the  assassina- 
tion of  one  of  her  husband's  sons,  after  having  vainly 
attempted  to  place  him  in  a  situation  where  a  fatal 
epidemic  was  raging.  Her  husband  himself,  the  dupe 
of  her  schemes,  was  destined  to  be  another  victim  to 
her  remorseless  cruelty.  Chilperic  having  returned 
from  hunting,  as  he  alighted  from  his  horse,  was 
stabbed  twice  in  the  breast  by  some  unseen  hand, 
and  died  unlamented,  leaving  scarcely  a  single  sub- 
ject willing  to  give  his  corpse  decent  burial.  The 
prime  mover  in  all  these  atrocities,  Fredegonde,  had 
sought  and  obtained  shelter  from  Gontran,  the  sur- 
viving brother  of  her  husband.  At  his  death,  a.  d. 
593,  the  power  of  this  wicked  woman  was  augment- 
ed by  her  influence  over  her  son,  who  succeeded  his 
uncle.  Her  own  life  terminated  peaceably,  except 
for  those  workings  of  a  guilty  conscience  which  no 
power  or  greatness  can  stifle.  The  fate  of  her  rival 
in  ambition  and  in  crime  was  more  awful.  Brune- 
child,  the  wife  of  Sigebert,  was  arrested  and  tried  for 
the  murder  of  ten  kings,  including  her  own  sons ! 
She  was  first  exhibited  as  a  spectacle  over  all  the 
camp,  and  exposed  to  the  insults  of  the  soldiers; 


22  BEAUTIES  OP 

then,  fastened  to  the  tail  of  a  wild  horse,  she  was 
dragged  and  torn  to  pieces,  and,  at  last,  thrown  into 
a  fire.  The  lives  of  two  more  utterly  cruel  and  de- 
praved women,  perhaps,  never  sullied  the  records  of 
a  kingdom. 

By  the  death  of  his  father,  Chilperic,  Clotaire  in 
herited  the  throne  of  Soissons  5  and,  on  the  demise 
of  his  uncle,  Gontran,  he  ascended  the  throne  of 
France. 

CLOTAIRE  THE   SECOND 

Was  a  milder  and  more  peaceable  sovereign  than 
either  of  his  predecessors.  He  sought  to  improve 
his  kingdom ;  and  bestowed  much  care  and  attention 
in  framing  wiser  laws  than  those  by  which  France 
had  heretofore  been  governed.  Under  his  reign,  how- 
ever, the  mayors  of  the  palace — a  title  given  to  the 
oldest  and  most  confidential  servant  of  the  crown, 
who  took  the  lead  in  the  administration  of  civil  and 
military  affairs — gradually  obtained  almost  absolute 
power,  and  ceased  to  acknowledge  the  king's  prero- 
gative either  to  appoint  or  dismiss  them.  The  ruin 
of  the  race  of  Merovingian  monarchs  was  the  result. 
Clotaire  died  in  628,  leaving  two  sons, 

DAGOBERT  AND  ARIBERT. 

The  death  of  Aribert,  which  took  place  about  two 
years  after  his  father,  left  Dagobert  in  peaceable  and 
undisputed  possession  of  the  crown  of  France.  The 


FRENCH  HISTORV.  23 

king  having  no  domestic  enemies  to  contend  with, 
turned  his  attention  towards  the  good  government  of 
nis  kingdom,  which,  under  his  comparatively  wise 
and  gentle  rule,  made  much  progress  in  the  arts  that 
create  and  distinguish  civilized  life.  At  his  court, 
Eloy,  who  had  been  a  goldsmith,  rendered  himself 
famous  by  his  wealth  and  ingenuity.  He  formed  a 
chair  of  solid  gold,  and  a  throne  of  the  same  metal, 
and  wore  a  belt  set  with  diamonds  when  he  visited 
the  palace.  He  afterwards  became  a  minister  of  state, 
a  bishop,  and  finally  a  saint. 

The  dignity  and  power  of  the  Merovingian  race 
of  kings — so  called  from  Merovee,  the  grandfather 
of  Clovis,  the  first  king  of  France — were  now  at 
their  height ;  and  as  the  early  history  of  this  lamily 
is  filled  with  those  crimes  that  characterize  the  dark- 
est age,  so  that  of  its  decline  and  fall  is  of  such  a  na- 
ture as  to  justify  us  in  dismissing  the  subject,  after  a 
bare  enumeration  of  their  respective  names.  Dago- 
bert  died  in  644,  and  was  succeeded  by  his  sons, 

SIGEBERT  THE   SECOND  AND  CI.OVIS  THE   SECOND. 

After  them  the  kingdom  was  divided  among  the 
children  of  the  latter ;  the  former  having  left  one  son, 
who  was  dispossessed  of  his  throne,  and  confined  in 
a  monastery  in  Ireland.  Clotaire  the  Third,  Childe- 
ric  the  Second,  Thierry  the  Third,  Clovis  the  Third, 
Childebert  the  Second,  Dagobert  the  Second,  Chilpe- 
ric  the  Second,  Thierry  the  Fourth,  and  Childeric  thq 


24  BEAUTIES  OF 

Third,  were  the  remaining  kings  of  the  race  of  Mero- 
vee; — but  the  history  of  their  several  reigns  is  rather 
that  of  the  mayors  of  the  palace  than  of  independent 
monarchs.  The  epithet  of  Rois  Faineans  (sluggards) 
was  universally  bestowed  upon  them ;  and  by  this 
unenviable  distinction  they  are  known  to  posterity. 
One  of  the  mayors,  Pepin,  obtained  so  much  influ- 
ence that  he  enjoyed  every  thing  belonging  to  the 
monarchs  of  France,  except  the  name;  the  legitimate 
kings  being  only  brought  forward  on  state  occasions, 
as  puppets  in  a  pageant.  Pepin  himself  was  satisfied 
with  the  title  of  subregulus,  or  viceroy,  given  to  him 
by  the  pope ;  but  he  projected  a  higher  for  his  fami- 
ly. Charles,  surnamed  Martel,  or  the  Hammer,  suc- 
ceeded to  his  office,  and  surpassed  him  in  courage, 
energy,  and  power.  His  name  is  too  prominent  and 
important  at  this  period  of  French  history  to  be 
brieflly  dismissed.  Although  he  had  many  victories 
to  gain  and  enemies  to  subdue  before  his  influence  as 
mayor  of  the  palace  was  established,  yet  it  is  to  his 
wars  widi  the  Saracens  that  he  is  indebted  for  the  re- 
putation he  has  obtained,  and  the  rank  he  holds  as 
one  t>f  the  most  eminent  men  of  his  age  and  coun- 
try. In  the  year  721,  the  Saracens,  under  the  tri- 
uniphant  banner  of  Mahomet,  had  extended  their 
conquests  from  the  Indus  to  the  Mediterranean,  and 
over  a  considerable  portion  of  Africa.  Having  been 
invited  into  Spain  by  Count  Julian  to  assist  him  in 
avenging  a  family  quarrel  with  Roderic  the  king,  tlioy 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  25 

subdued  that  country  with  ease,  and  thence  passed 
over  the  Pyrenees,  and  threatened  to  bring  France 
under  tlieir  yoke.  Charles  met  them  near  Poitiers  : 
their  army,  including  its  followers,  consisted  of 
400,000  persons ;  his  being  far  inferior  in  numbers. 
The  combatants  lay  a  week  in  siglit  of  each  other. 
At  last  both  resolved  to  fight.  The  battle  commenced 
with  fury,  and  continued  during  the  greater  part  of 
the  day.  With  axe  and  sabre  the  French  hewed 
down  the  enemy ;  but  new  fronts  were  continually 
opposed  to  them,  until  at  length  victory  crowned  their 
persevering  efforts,  hi  this  action  nearly  375,000  of 
the  Saracens,  together  with  their  general,  are  said  to 
have  been  slain ;  and,  if  we  may  credit  the  historian, 
only  1500  of  the  French.  It  was  from  his  acts  of 
prowess  on  this  occasion,  that  Charles  derived  the 
surname  of  Martel^  his  strokes  falling  numberless 
and  effectual  on  the  heads  of  his  enemies.  To  the 
memory  of  Charles  Martel,  Christianity  owes  a  large 
debt  for  this  service.  If  France  had  been  left  to  the 
charge  of  hs  Rois  Faineans,  Mahometanism  would 
undoubtedly  have  spread  over  the  fairest  portions  of 
Europe.  He  died  in  October,  741.  Every  thing  in 
his  character  and  conduct  is  great;  and  his  reputation 
is  unsullied  by  a  single  act  of  wilful  oppression  or 
capricious  bloodshed.  In  estabhshing  his  own  power 
he  aggrandized  the  state ;  giving  stability  to  the  go- 
vernment, and  glory  to  the  arms  of  France. 

Charles  had  adopted  the  same  policy  as  his  father: 
3 


26  BEAUTIES  OF 

satisfied  with  the  substance,  without  the  name  of  roy- 
alty, he  nevertheless  laboured  to  diminish  the  dis- 
tance and  surmount  the  difficulties  that  lay  between 
his  family  and  the  crown.  He  obtained  the  consent 
of  the  assembled  states  to  the  succession  of  his  sons, 
Carloman  to  the  dukedom  of  Austrasia,  and  Pepin  to 
that  of  Burgundy  and  Neustria ;  and  for  Griffon,  he 
procured  a  grant  of  some  territory.  At  this  period, 
Childeric  the  Third  was  the  nominal  king  of  France; 
he  was  the  last  of  the  Merovingian  race,  which,  be- 
ginning with  Clovis,  had,  to  tlie  number  of  thirty-two 
kings,  filled  the  throne  for  two  hundred  and  seventy 
years.  Pepin,  in  consequence  of  the  unfitness  of  his 
brother  Griffon  to  reign,  and  the  voluntary  retirement 
of  Carloman  to  a  monastery,  found  himself  in  a  situ- 
ation that  placed  the  crown  of  France  within  hia 
reach.  The  general  incapacity  of  Childeric  was  ac- 
knowledged ;  but  Pepin  was  desirous  that  the  sanc- 
tion of  the  pope  should  diminish  the  scruples  of  the 
people  in  deposing  their  legitimate  sovereign.  A  case 
of  conscience  was  therefore  submitted  to  his  holi- 
ness ;  "  whether  it  were  expedient  that  the  nominal 
and  real  source  of  power  should  be  divided ;  and  whe- 
ther he  who  possessed  all  kingly  power  ought  not  to 
assume  the  rank  and  title  of  king  .^"  The  pope  de- 
cided in  favour  of  the  real  governor,  in  preference  to 
the  incapable  but  legitimate  monarch.  Childeric  and 
his  son,  therefore,  were  shaved,  dethroned,  and  placed 
in  a  monastery ;  and  Pepm  was  solemnly  crowned 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  27 

by  the  archbishop  of  Mayence  and  the  pope's  legale; 
the  ceremony  of  coronation  being  thus,  for  the  first 
time,  substituted  for  the  ancient  one  of  elevating  a 
new  nionarcli  upon  the  bucklers  of  liis  soldiery.  By 
this  event,  the  family  of  Merovee  became  extinct;  and 
the  second  race  of  French  monarchs,  the  Carlovin- 
gian,  was  founded  in  751. 


THE  CARLOVINGIAN  RACE. 


PEPIN  THE   SHORT. 

The  usurpation  of  Pepin,  sanctioned  as  it  was  by 
the  pope  and  the  people  of  France,  compelled  him 
to  adopt  a  course  of  policy,  palatable  to  the  one  and 
salutarj'  to  the  other.  The  only  wars  in  which  he 
engaged  were  foreign  ones ;  and  he  gained  the  love 
and  esteem  of  his  subjects  to  such  a  degree,  that  11 
est  prudent  comme  Pepin,  became  an  adage.  He  was 
surnamed  the  Short,  on  account  of  his  extremely  di- 
minutive stature  ;  but  his  frame  was  stout  and  vigor- 
ous. At  a  public  exhibition,  while  a  strong  lion  held 
by  the  throat  and  almost  strangled  a  furious  bull,  he 
proposed  that  some  of  tlie  company  should  step  for- 
ward and  rescue  him.     The  appeal  to  their  courage 


28  BEAUTIES  OF 

was,  however,  unanswered.  The  king  lose  from  his 
seat,  leaped  into  the  arena,  cut  the  throat  of  the  lion, 
and  with  one  stroke  of  his  sword  severed  the  head 
of  the  bull.  Then,  turning  to  the  assembly,  he  said, 
"  David  was  a  little  man,  yet  he  slew  Goliath;  Alex- 
ander was  of  small  size,  yet  had  he  greater  strength 
and  courage  than  many  of  his  officers  who  were 
taller  and  handsomer  than  he."  One  historian  states 
this  circumstance  to  have  taken  place  before  Pepin 
ascended  the  throne,  and  adds,  that  he  addressed  the 
surrounding  courtiers,  saying,  "Am  I  now  worthy  to 
be  your  king  ?"  It  is  certain  that  a  better  plan  could 
scarcely  have  been  devised  for  gaining  the  hearts  of 
a  fierce  and  warlike  people;  and  the  contrast  between 
the  vigour  and  spirit  of  Pepin,  and  the  weakness  and 
incompetency  of  Childeric,  was  a  forcible  appeal  to 
the  good  opinion  of  his  future  subjects. 

Pepin  died  of  a  fever  in  768 ;  and  on  his  tomb  at 
St.  Denis  is  inscribed  this  brief  but  striking  epitaph: 
"  Pepin,  father  of  Charlemagne."  He  deserved  a  bet- 
ter, however;  for  he  governed  with  prudence  and 
energy,  and  left  an  unsullied  reputation  (if  we  except 
the  act  of  usurpation,  which  cannot  b  e  palliated).  He 
had  two  sons, 

CHARLES  AND  CARLOMAN. 

The  death  of  Carloman,  three  years  after  his  father, 
left  Charles  master  of  the  whole  French  monarchy. 
His  conquests  were  great  and  numerous.     He  sub- 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  29 

dued  Spain;  but  as  he  was  returning  to  his  own 
country,  laden  with  spoil,  he  was  attacked  at  the  me- 
morable pass  of  Rancevaux  by  a  large  band  of  Gas- 
con mountaineers.  They  saw  the  fancied  security 
of  the  French  army,  coveted  the  riches  they  were 
bearing  with  them,  and  embraced  the  precious  oppor- 
tunity of  vengeance  and  plunder.  Concealing  them- 
selves in  the  woods,  at  the  entrance  of  the  narrow 
defile,  they  allowed  the  king  and  a  great  part  of  his 
force  to  pass  unmolested,  and  then  falling  on  the  bag- 
gage, killed  the  guards,  and  bore  it  away  to  inacces- 
sible places,  before  the  main  body  of  the  army  was 
aware  of  the  struggle.  In  this  skirmish  Charles  lost 
his  nephew,  "  the  brave  Roland,"  of  whose  prowess 
and  chivalry  frequent  mention  is  made  in  ancient  lays 
and  romances. 

The  constant  success  and  extensive  dominions  of 
Charles  spread  his  fame  to  every  quarter  of  the  globe. 
The  Moors  and  Saracens  respected  and  feared  him ; 
the  Patriarch  of  Jerusalem  honoured  him  with  many 
sacred  gifts ;  and  the  king  of  Persia,  Aaron  Raschid, 
the  great  monarch  and  conqueror  of  the  East,  knowing 
how  acceptable  Jerusalem  and  some  other  parts  of 
his  empire  would  be  to  the  acknowledged  protector 
of  the  Catholic  church,  presented  them  to  him,  as  a 
pledge  of  his  friendship.*    No  honour  or  title  seemed 

*  Among  the  presents  sent  to  him  by  Aaron  Raschid,  was  a 
very  curious  cloclt,  worked  by  water.  The  dial  was  composed 
of  twelve  small  doors  ;  out  of  which  little  balls  fell  on  a  braau 

3* 


30  BEAUTIES  OF 

too  great  for  a  sovereign  so  powerful  and  respected. 
At  length  Pope  Leo  the  Third  resolved  to  confer 
upon  him  the  highest  possible  dignity,  and  gave  hira 
the  rank  and  title  of  Emperor  of  the  West.  On 
Christmas-day,  a.  d.  800,  while  Charles  was  attend- 
ing high  mass  at'  the  church  of  St.  Peter,  in  Rome, 
the  pope  approached  him,  and  solemnly  placing  the 
imperial  crown  upon  his  head,  proclaimed,  "  Long 
live  Charles  Augustus!  crowned  by  the  hand  of  God. 
Life  and  victory  to  the  great  and  pacific  emperor  of 
the  Romans  I" — the  clergy  and  the  people  shouting, 
"  Long  live  Charles  Augustus,  emperor  of  the  Ro- 
mans !" 

The  brave  and  energetic  king,  who  obtained  and 
justly  merited  the  title  of  Charlemagne — Charles  the 
Great — died  in  January,  814,  in  the  seventy-first 
year  of  his  age,  and  the  forty-seventh  of  his  glorious 
and  prosperous  reign.  He  was  of  a  robust  constitu- 
tion, rather  above  the  ordinary  lieight,  possessing  a 
handsome  and  manly  person,  and  an  open  and  agree- 
able countenance.  His  understanding  was  clear  and 
vigorous,  his  judgment  decisive,  and  his  resolution 
firm.  His  plans  were  formed  with  sagacity  and  pru- 
dence, and  carried  into  eflfect  with  energy  and  deter- 
mination. As  a  sovereign  he  was  great,  as  a  mfia 
good  ]  and  upon  few  of  those  who  either  went  be- 

drum  to  mark  the  hours.  When  it  was  twelve  o'clock,  aa 
many  horsemen  in  miniature  issued  fortli,  and  marching  round 
closed  all  the  doors. 


FRENCH  mSTORT.  31 

fore  or  came  after  him,  could  a  better  epitaph  be  in- 
scribed. It  was  his  custom  to  seal  all  his  treaties 
•with  the  hilt  of  his  sword  :  "  I  have  sealed  it,"  he 
Avould  say,  ^'  with  my  sword-hilt,  and  1  will  maintain 
it  with  the  point." 

Notwithstanding  the  multitude  of  his  occupations, 
he  gave  much  of  his  time  and  attention  to  study,  and 
laboured  continually  to  spread  a  desire  for  know- 
ledge throughout  his  dominions.  On  one  occasion 
we  find  him  inspecting  the  school  of  a  learned  monk, 
named  Clement,  whom  he  had  invited  over  from  Ire- 
land ;  and  observing  the  youth  of  the  humbler  class 
to  have  made  greater  progress  than  those  of  the  higher 
orders,  he  placed  the  former  on  the  right  hand,  and 
thus  addressed  them :  "  Continue,  my  children,  to 
improve ;  you  shall  be  rewarded ;  I  will  raise  you 
to  stations  of  rank  and  power.  But  as  for  you," 
turning  to  the  idle  scholars,  "  you  delicate  sons  of 
noble  birth,  and  heirs  to  property  in  which  you  too 
much  confide — you  have  spent  your  days  in  indo- 
lence or  vain  amusement.  Know  that  your  birth 
shall  avail  you  naught  unless  you  speedily  redeem 
the  time  you  have  lost." 

During  the  reign  of  Charlemagne  and  of  several  of 
his  predecessors,  trials  by  battle  were  very  common. 
In  the  darker  ages  it  was  believed  that  Providence  in- 
terfered in  the  cause  of  justice ;  and  in  ordeals  by 
duel,  it  was  always  imagined  that  right,  and  not  might, 
was  sure  to  be  triumphant.     The  accuser  and  the 


32  BEAUTIES  OF 

accused,  or  their  champions  (deputies)  engaged  to 
rest  the  truth  of  their  assertions  on  the  issue  of  a 
single  combat  •,  and  the  truth  was  invariably  decided 
to  be  with  the  conqueror.*  By  the  Capitulary  of  Da- 
gobert,  A.D.  816,  ordinary  persons  wer^^  allowed  to 
fight  with  cudgels ;  and  the  convicted  individual  vpas 
ordered  to  lose  his  right  hand.  Another  kind  of  trial 
was  that  of  lifting,  handling,  or  touching  hot  iron. 
A  bar  of  iron  was  heated  more  or  less,  according  to 
the  extent  of  the  crime  alleged  against  the  accused. 
The  bar  Avas  the  property  of  the  clergy,  who  were 
paid  for  its  use.  The  iron  was  either  to  be  handled 
or  walked  upon ;  and  was  sometimes  in  the  form  of 
a  glove  into  which  the  hand  was  to  be  thrust.  The 
part  applied  to  it  was  instantly  wrapped  up  and  sealed 
by  the  judge  and  the  prosecutor ;  on  the  third  day 
the  bandages  were  removed,  and  the  guilt  or  inno- 
cence of  the  party  determined  by  the  fact,  whether  he 
had  received  any  injury  from  the  experiment.  The 
trial  by  boiling  water  was  of  a  similar  character: 
sometimes  a  finger-rmg  was  thrown  into  a  pan  or 

*  At  this  period,  nearly  every  crime  was  punished  by  a  fine. 
Among  the  list  of  offences  for  which  compensation  could  be  thtia 
made,  we  find  the  following : 

solidi. 
For  killing  a  girl  free  born         ....    200 

a  slave 35 

a  freeman 200 

• hy  thrusting  him  into  a  well      .         ,     600 

For  hiring  a  man  to  steal  or  kill        .        .        .    100 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  33 

kettle,  and  tl.e  accused  required  to  grope  for  and  take 
it  out.  The  following  anecdote  will  illustrate  this 
extraordinary  usage.  A  dispute  having  occurred  be- 
tween a  Catholic  and  an  Arian,  the  former  observed 
«  To  what  purport  do  we  argue  ?  let  us  appeal  to 
fact ;  get  a  boiler,  put  it  on  the  fire,  and  cast  a  ring 
into  it ;  and  he  who  takes  it  out  shall  convert  the 
rest  of  the  company."  The  challenge  being  accept- 
ed by  the  Arian,  the  Catholic  politely  requested  him 
to  begin  the  business,  which  he  as  politely  declined, 
alleging  that  the  other  had  the  merit  of  first  pro- 
posing the  mode  of  deciding  their  differences.  The 
Catholic  bared  his  arm,  and  just  as  he  was  about  to 
introduce  it  into  the  boiler,  a  monk,  accidentally  pass- 
ing by,  offered  himself  in  his  stead,  which  was  readily 
ao-reed  on.  The  ring  was  light  and  small,  and  the 
water  much  agitated  in  boiling;  nevertheless,  after  an 
hour's  search,  the  monk  found  it.  The  Arian  next 
made  a  similar  attempt ;  but  in  a  few  moments  the 
skin  and  flesh  of  his  arm  were  destroyed ;  and  thus 
the  contest  ended.  This  story  is,  of  course,  one  of 
the  monkish  legends  invented  to  deceive  the  credu- 
lous. It  is  related  by  Gregory,  the  historian  of  Tours, 
in  his  book  De  gloria  Martyrum.  The  trial  by  the 
cross  was  rather  more  rational.  Two  pieces  of  wood, 
one  marked  with  the  sign  of  the  cross,  having  been 
placed  underneath  the  altar,  the  person  fortunate 
enough  to  select  the  marked  piece  was  declared  in- 
nocent. 


34  BEAUTIES  OF 

The  son  and  successor  of  Charlemagne,  was 

LOUIS    THE    FIRST, 

surnamed  "le  Debonnaire,"  who  had  participated  in 
the  government  of  his  father  during  his  lifetime ;  and 
who,  on  ascending  the  throne,  imitated  Charlemagne's 
example  by  dividing  his  dominions  among  his  sons, 
and  appointing  Lothaire,  the  eldest,  his  immediate 
associate.  Louis  was  a  weak  king;  and  he  had  occa- 
sion shortly  to  repent  his  misplaced  confidence ;  for 
his  sons  entered  into  a  conspiracy  to  wrest  the  king- 
dom from  him.  They  succeeded  in  taking  prisoner 
Judith,  his  second  queen,  their  stepmother;  but  agreed 
to  spare  her  life  on  condition  that  she  would  persuade 
the  emperor  to  retire  with  her  to  a  monastery,  and 
relinquish  his  throne.  To  these  terms  she  assented; 
und  returned  to  her  husband.  She  stated  to  him  her 
solemn  engagement  to  go  again  to  the  camp  of  his 
sons,  with  whatever  message  he  might  authorize  her 
to  carry.  Louis  gave  her  for  answer  to  the  rebel 
princes,  that  she  was  at  liberty  to  place  herself  in  a 
convent;  but  that  with  reference  to  himself,  he  con- 
sidered it  necessary  to  consult  his  subjects.  The  un- 
happy monarch  convoked  an  assembly  at  Compiegne, 
and  submitted  the  proposition  to  them.  His  manner 
of  doing  so,  however,  was  unworthy  of  his  character 
as  a  sovereign,  and  his  station  as  a  man.  He  declined 
sitting  on  the  throne,  but  stood  near  it  in  an  humi- 
liating posture ;  confessed  his  personal  defects  and  in- 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  35 

capacity  to  govern;  and  concluded  by  asking  the  ad- 
vice of  the  meeting,  which  was  deeply  affected  at  his 
words  and  appearance.  Almost  immediately  after- 
wards, however,  Louis  delivered  himself  up  to  his 
worthless  and  ungrateful  sons,  who  kept  him  a  close 
prisoner.  Subsequently,  he  was  accused  of  various 
immoralities  and  high  crimes,  and  condemned  by  a 
kind  of  mock  tribunal  to  a  penance,  which  was  to  con- 
tinue for  life,  and  during  which  he  was  held  incapable 
of  enjoying  any  title,  or  of  discharging  any  public 
duty.  To  thi-s  humiliating  penance  he  was  accordingly 
subjected,  and  being  led  to  the  church  of  St.  Medard, 
at  Soissons,  he  prostrated  himself  on  a  hair  cloth, 
spread  upon  the  ground,  confessed  his  guilt,  and  ad- 
mitted the  truth  of  the  accusations  against  him.  The 
Bishop  of  Rheims,  who  presided  on  the  occasion,  put 
a  garment  of  sackcloth  on  his  body,  and  conducted 
him  to  a  small  cell  in  the  monastery  where  he  was 
to  spend  the  remainder  of  his  degraded  existence. 
Some  remnant  of  spirit  was  yet  left  in  the  weak- 
minded  old  man;  for,  on  being  told  that  he  must  give 
up  his  sword,  he  ungirded  it  from  his  loins  and  threw 
it  violently  down  at  the  bottom  of  the  altar.  From 
this  affecting  but  disgraceful  scene,  the  assembled 
people  retired  in  sullen  silence.  Louis  was,  some 
time  after,  restored ;  but  his  mental  peace  was  gone  : 
he  died  in  840,  in  the  sixtieth  year  of  his  age.  His 
feebleness  and  superstition  unfitted  him  to  guide  the 
helm  of  a  great  kingdom ;  but  he  was  entitled  to  the 


36  BEAUTIES   OF 

esteem,  if  not  the  respect,  of  his  subjects;  and  filial 
ingratitude  was  what  he  had  never  deserve^ :  amiable 
to  a  fault,  he  appears  to  have  retained  the  sense  of 
injuries  only  until  he  found  an  opportunity  to  pardon. 
When  on  his  death-bed,  his  son  Louis  sent  to  en- 
treat forgiveness :"  Tell  him,"  said  the  dying  man, 
"that  I  do  forgive  him,  but  that  he  makes  my  gray 
hairs  descend  with  sorrow  to  the  grave." 

CHARLES    THE    SECOND, 

surnamed  "  the  Bald,"  succeeded  his  father.  His  bro- 
ther, Lothaire,  however,  obtained  Italy,  and  laid  claim 
to  the  title  of  emperor.  This  dispute  gave  rise  to  a 
war  between  the  brothers  ;  it  was  decided  by  the  fatal 
battle  of  Fontenoy,  in  which  so  many  thousand  brave 
knights  of  France  and  Italy  were  slain.  The  carnage 
on  both  sides  has  been  estimated  at  100,000  men  ;  and 
some  authors  trace  to  this  circumstance  the  custom 
in  Champagne,  by  which,  to  repair  the  loss  of  nobility, 
children  became  ennobled  by  the  mother,  whatever 
might  be  the  father's  rank. 

Charles  died  in  877,  leaving  his  titles  and  domi- 
nions to  his  only  son,  Louis  the  Second,  called  "le 
Begue,"  or  the  Stammerer. 

Louis  the  Third,  Carloman,  and  Charles  the  Third, 
surnamed  "  the  Fat,"  severally  succeeded  to  the 
crown  of  France.  The  Norman  invasion  forms  a 
striking  episode  in  the  otherwise  uninteresting  reigns 
of  these  monarchs.  In  the  year  805,  those  hardy  and 


FRENCH  HISTORV,  37 

enterprising  northern  pirates,  under  the  command  of 
Sigefrid,  a,lierce  but  skilfal  soldier,  laid  siege  to  the 
city  of  Paris,  which  at  this  time  must  have  been  of 
considerable  extent  and  importance.  Julius  Caesar, 
about  nine  centuries  before,  had  described  it  as  a  place 
of  some  note;  and  as  central  and  convenient  for  the 
holding  of  assemblies,  inasmuch  as  it  afforded  accom- 
modation to  the  multitude  usually  expected  to  attend 
on  such  occasions.  From  his  account,  however,  it 
appears  that  the  houses  were  chiefly  of  wood,  and 
confined  to  that  part  of  it  which  was  then  an  island, 
surrounded  by  almost  impassable  marshes.  Soon  af- 
ter the  reign  of  Clovis,  it  became  the  capital  of  France. 
When  attacked  by  the  Wormans  it  was  well  defended  ; 
having  been  principally  intrusted  to  a  general  named 
Eudes,  and  the  Bishop  Goselin,  who  wore  the  hel- 
met and  bore  the  axe,  in  place  of  the  mitre  and  cro- 
sier. The  siege  Avas  conducted,  and  the  city  con- 
tested, with  obstinate  courage  on  both  sides;  but  the 
Normans  availed  themselves  of  the  opportunity  to 
plunder  the  country  in  all  directions;  slaughtering 
the  inhabitants  without  mercy,  and  filling  the  trenches 
around  the  town  with  the  bodies  of  the  dead.  In  a 
general  assault,  the  enemy  scaled  the  ramparts,  but 
were  prevented  from  entering  the  city  by  the  intre- 
pidity of  one  man,  who  persuaded  five  comrades — no 
others  being  near  him — that  they  were  a  match  for 
the  assailaiits,  and  succeeded  in  forcing  them  from 
the  walls.  To  the  eternal  disgrace  of  Charles  the 
4 


38  BEAUTIES  OF 

Third,  although  he  came  at  length  to  the  relief  of  the 
gallant  citizens  with  an  immense  army,  he  was  mean 
and  cowardl}'  enough  to  bribe  off  the  Normans,  whom 
he  might  easily  have  destroyed  to  a  man.  He  died 
A.  D.  888,  having  been  dethroned  by  his  subjects  a 
few  months  before ;  and  Eudes,  or  Odo,  was  unani- 
mously called  to  the  throne  of  France  by  the  states 
which  had  deposed  Charles.  Eudes  is  said  to  have 
been  a  descendant  of  Charles  Martel,  and  had  rendered 
himself  exceedingly  popular  by  his  brave  defence 
of  Paris,  just  mentioned.  The  son  of  the  legitimate 
monarch  was,  however,  in  course  of  time,  restored. 
Charles  "  the  Simple,"  Raoul,  Louis  the  Fourth,  Lo- 
thaire  the  Second,  and  Louis  the  Fifth,  successively 
swayed  the  French  sceptre,  and  by  the  death  of  the 
latter,  the  race  of  the  Carlovingian  kings  became 
extinct,  after  having  governed  France  for  237  years ; 
when  a  new  dynasty  was  called  to  reign  over  the 
kingdom. 


FRENCH   HISTORY.  39 


THE  CAPETIAN  RACE. 


HUGH    CAPET. 

Hugh  Capet  ascended  the  throne  of  France  in 
987,  in  the  room  of  the  uncle  of  Louis  the  Fifth, 
who  had  rendered  himself  unpopular  by  becoming  a 
vassal  of  Germany  in  Lorraine.  He  was  the  son  of 
Hugh  the  Great,  Count  of  Paris,  and  great-grandson 
to  Robert  the  Strong,  who  is  stated  to  have  been  a 
descendant  of  Charlemagne.  He  had,  however,  to 
fight  for  his  crown,  although  its  possession  was  of 
little  value,  since,  in  exchanging  the  title  of  duke  for 
that  of  king,  he  obtained  no  real  advantage,  or  ac- 
cession of  power;  for  under  the  government  of  his 
imbecile  predecessor,  he  was,  in  reality,  the  ruler  of 
France.  After  two  years  of  doubtful  war,  the  hopes  of 
the  few  remnants  of  the  Carlo vingian  race  ceased  any 
longer  to  influence  their  feeble  partisans,  and  Capet 
was  firmly  established  in  the  dominions  he  was  so 
well  fitted  to  govern. 

Hugh  Capet  is,  indeed,  one  of  the  most  prominent 
persons  in  the  history  of  France,  not  only  on  account 
of  his  wisdom  and  valour,  but  from  being  the  first  of 
a  long  race  of  kings,  who,  for  several  centuries,  sat 
upon  the  French  throne.  If  it  be  possible  to  find  an 
excuse  for  usurpation,  it  exists  in  his  case:  for  the 


40 


BEAUTIES  OF 


greater  number  of  his  predecessors  were  imbeciles^ 
unfit  to  govern.  He  held  the  crown,  however,  by  a 
precarious  tenure;  and  was  frequently  reminded  of 
the  circumstances  under  Avhich  it  was  obtained. 
"Who  made  you  a  count?"  was  a  question  once  put 
by  him  to  one  of  his  vassals.  Those  that  made  you 
a  king,"  was  the  spirited  reply. 

He  died  a.  d.  997,  leaving  the  kingdom  to  his  son 

ROBERT ; 

A  prince  described  as  handsome  in  person,  and  of  pe- 
culiarly gentle  deportment;  and  though  by  no  means 
destitute  of  military  skill,  a  lover  of  peace. 

An  anecdote  is  related  of  him,  that  strongly  shows 
the  extraordinary  power  possessed  by  the  Papal  See, 
even  at  that  early  period,  over  France  and  its  kings. 
Robert  was  distantly  related  to  his  wife  Bertha,  daugh- 
ter of  Conrad,  king  of  Burgundy;  and  had  stood 
godfather  to  her  son  by  a  former  marriage.  He  was 
devotedly  attached  to  her,  and  the  idea  of  their  sepa- 
ration was  painful  as  the  pangs  of  death,  when  the 
proud  and  revengeful  Pope  Gregory  the  Fifth  issued 
his  mandate  for  her  divorce.  The  sentence,  being 
disregarded  by  the  king,  was  followed  by  one  of  ex- 
communication— the  consequences  "of  which  were, 
that  the  kingdom  was  laid  under  an  interdict,  the  ad- 
ministration of  government  was  suspended ;  the  courts 
of  justice  were  shut;  religious  privileges  were  with- 
held, and   even  the  dead  remained  unburied.    The 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  41 

king  himself  was  deserted — two  domestic  servants 
only  being  permitted  to  attend  him.  Such,  however, 
was  the  general  sympathy  of  the  people  towards  their 
unhappy  prince,  that  no  advantage  was  taken  of  his 
condition  to  promote  disorder,  or  to  encom'age  in- 
surrection. 

At  length  Robert  was  compelled  to  put  away  Bertha, 
after  she  had  borne  him  a  child :  and  although  the 
business  of  the  historian  goes  no  further  than  to  relate 
the  circumstance  as  we  have  done,  yet  the  writer  of  fic- 
tion may  build  a  noble  structure  upon  this  simple  fact. 

Robert  died  in  1031,  and  was  succeeded  by  his 
eldest  son, 

HENRY  THE  FIRST. 

Almost  immediately  after  his  accession,  his  mother 
Constantia,  by  whom  he  was  hated  to  a  most  unac- 
countable degree,  endeavoured  to  depose  him,  and 
place  her  favourite  son  Robert  on  the  throne ;  but  her 
death,  in  1032,  left  him  in  peaceable  possession  of  the 
crown.  In  1059,  Henry,  having  passed  a  life  of 
comparative  quiet,  and  free  from  any  extraordinary 
incidents,  finding  the  weakness  of  age  coming  upon 
him,  appointed  his  son  Philip  his  associate  in  the 
kingdom.  Philip  was  therefore  consecrated  and 
crowned  king.  The  following  ceremonies  of  the 
coronation  have  been  preserved ;  and  are  interesting 
as  illustrative  of  the  manners  of  the  times. 

After  tlie  celebration  of  mass  on  the  da}'  of  Pente- 
4* 


42  BEAUTIES  OF 

cost,  Gervase,  the  Archbishop  of  Rheiras,  who  presi- 
ded, turned  towards  the  young  prince,  and  after  stating 
and  expounding  to  him  the  Catholic  faith,  interrogated 
him,  whether  he  believed,  and  would  defend  it:  hav- 
ing answered  in  the  affirmative,  Philip  read  and  sub- 
scribed the  coronation  oath,  as  follows : 

"  I,  Philip,  by  the  grace  of  God,  king  of  the  French, 
promise  before  God  and  his  saints,  that  I  will  preserve 
to  every  one  of  you,  and  to  your  churches,  your  ca- 
nonical privileges,  and  will  duly  maintain  law  and 
justice;  and  that  with  the  help  of  God  I  will  protect 
you  as  far  as  it  shall  be  in  my  power,  and  as  it  is 
becoming  every  king  in  his  own  realm  to  maintain 
the  rights  of  the  church  and  clergy  committed  to  his 
protection.  In  a  word,  I  will  take  care  that  the  laws 
shall  be  duly  administered  to  all  the  people  over  whom 
I  am  this  day  placed."  Having  read  this,  he  returned 
it  into  the  hands  of  the  Archbishop;  after  which,  that 
prelate,  taking  the  pastoral  staff  of  St.  Reme,  enlarged 
on  the  right  which  the  archbishops  of  Rheims  had 
exclusively  enjoyed  since  the  days  of  Clovis,  of  con- 
secrating and  crowning  the  kings  of  France ;  which 
right  was  confirmed  to  them  by  the  deeds  of  Popes 
Hermisdas  and  Victor ;  then  having  received  the  con- 
sent of  the  prince's  father,  he  declared  Philip  king  of 
France.  The  pope's  legates  were  next  permitted,  not 
as  a  right  but  as  an  expression  of  regard,  to  repeat 
the  same  declaration,  the  words  of  which  were  now 
proclaimed  by  the  other  archbishops,  bishops,  abbots, 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  43 

and  clergy ;  by  the  nobles  according  to  their  rank; 
and,  lastly,  by  the  soldiers  and  people  present,  from 
circle  to  circle,  all  exclaiming  three  times,  "We  ap- 
prove ;  "vve  will ;  so  be  it."  The  ceremony  was  con- 
cluded by  the  king's  subscribing  the  claim  of  the 
Archbishops  of  Rheims  always  exclusively  to  preside 
on  such  occasions,  and  by  constituting  Gervase  his 
chancellor.  Gervase  entertained  the  king  and  the 
whole  assembly,  which  was  very  numerous ;  but 
under  protest,  that  his  successors  should  not  be  after- 
wards held  bound  to  sustain  this  burden. 
Henry  died  shortly  after  this  event ;  and 

PHILIP  THE  FIRST 

commenced  his  reign,  a.  d.  1060.  It  is  chiefly  re- 
markable on  account  of  foreign  events,  rather  than 
domestic  occurrences ;  and  by  the  achievements  of 
others,  rather  than  his  own.  Although  his  kingdom 
was  materially  afiected  by  the  Norman  conquest  of 
England,  and  the  spirit  of  the  crusades,  which  began 
so  much  to  agitate  and  change  the  state  of  Europe, 
he  was  neither  personally  engaged  in  the  one,  nor 
influenced  by  the  other. 

An  attempt  was  made  in  1076,  by  Philip  the  First, 
to  recover  Normandy,  as  a  province  of  France.  The 
effort  was  unsuccessful,  notwithstanding  the  absence 
of  William  of  Normandy  (the  Conqueror),  who  of 
necessity  sojourned  in  England.  William  had  com- 
mitted the  care  of  his  duchy  to  his  eldest  son  Robert ; 


44  BEAUTIES  OF 

but  the  young  prince,  led  astray  by  the  flattery  of  his 
courtiers,  sought  to  exchange  the  shadow  for  the  sub- 
stance of  power,  and  trusting  to  the  support  he  ex- 
pected from  the  French  court,  summoned  his  father 
to  grant  him  formal  possession  of  his  Norman  do- 
minions. .  "  It  is  not  my  custom  to  strip  myself  before 
I  go  to  bed,"  was  William's  reply;  the  smartness  of 
which — however  justly  merited — converted  the  son 
into  a  rebel,  and  a  war  was  the  consequence.  It  con- 
tinued for  some  years ;  and  towards  the  conclusion 
of  it,  Robert  engaged  his  father  in  single  combat  with- 
out knowing  against  whom  he  contended,  as  his  visor 
was  down.  The  youth  struck  to  the  earth  the  more 
aged  warrior ;  but  as  he  fell,  recognizing  his  voice, 
he  cast  himself  at  his  feet  and  implored  forgiveness. 
Yet  the  British  king  was  not  generous  enough  to 
|)ardon  the  repentant  prince;  and  left  him  without 
any  proof  of  parental  forgiveness 

On  one  occasion,  when  William,  who  was  very  cor- 
pulent, was  confined  to  his  bed  by  sickness,  Philip 
remarked,  "  How  long  will  it  be  till  that  pregnant 
man  be  delivered  ?"  The  jest  was  reported  to  Wil- 
liam, who  sent  the  French  king  this  message :  "  Tell 
him,"  said  he,  in  allusion  to  the  manner  of  church- 
ing women,  "  that  I  shall  attend  the  church  of  Saint 
Genevieve,  at  Paris,  with  ten  thousand  spears  instead 
of  wax  candles."  He  kept  his  word,  in  part;  set 
Nantes  on  fire ;  and  would  have  reached  the  gates  of 


FRENCH  HISTORY- 


45 


the  French  capital,  but  that  death  overtook  him  on 
the  way. 

The  fame  of  the  son  and  successor  of  Philip, 
Louis,  surnamed  "  the  Battler,"  had  spread  far  and 
wide  even  at  a  very  early  age.  But  his  popularity 
excited  the  envious  hatred  of  his  stepmother,  the 
Queen  Bertrade ;  and  Louis  being  absent  from  France 
on  a  visit  to  the  English  monarch,  Henry  the  First, 
Bertrade  conceived  this  a  favourable  opportunity  for 
carrying  her  plans  into  execution.  She  wrote,  or 
caused  to  be  written,  a  letter  to  Henry,  which  she 
sealed  with  the  seal  of  Philip,  conjuring  him,  for  va- 
luable consideration,  to  murder  his  guest.  Henry 
shuddered  at  the  base  proposal,  indignantly  refused 
to  become  the  tool  of  a  wicked  woman,  and  commu- 
nicated the  contents  of  the  epistle  to  Louis.  The 
youth  immediately  left  England ;  threw  himself  at 
the  feet  of  his  father,  and  demanded  justice— but  in 
vain.  The  queen  subsequently  attempted  to  poison 
him ;  and  he  was  only  saved  by  timely  and  suitable 
medicine. 

"The  ceremony  of  investing  a  knight  seems  to  have 
attained  all  its  solemnity  during  the  reigns  of  Philip 
the  First  and  his  predecessor.  Recovering  from  her 
depression  and  disorder,  France  saw  the  importance 
of  rousing  young  men  to  military  fame  by  all  means, 
sensible,  romantic,  and  religious.  Sieges,  embarka- 
tions, victories,  festivals,  and  other  such  public  occa- 
sions, were  the  usual  seasons  for  conferring  the  ho- 


46  BEAUTIES  OP 

nour  of  knighthood.  In  the  field  it  waa  summarily 
perfonned,  but  in  ordinary  instances  it  commenced 
with  watching,  fasting,  and  various  austerities  ;  whole 
nights  were  spent  in  prayer,  with  the  assistance  of  a 
priest  and  near  relations  ;  religious  discourses,  suit- 
able to  the  occasion,  were  delivered ;  confession  of 
sins  was  made ;  divers  washings  were  employed ; 
white  raiment  was  put  on ;  and  the  Eucharist  was  re- 
ceived. 

The  candidate  having  finished  all  the  preliminary 
ceremonies,  which  lasted  several  days,  was  attended 
to  the  church  by  his  friends  in  solemn  procession. 
He  advanced  to  the  altar,  with  a  sword  slung  in  a 
scarf  depending  from  his  neck,  and  presented  the 
weapon  to  the  priest,  who  consecrated  and  restored 
it.  Joining  his  hands,  he  then  turned  to  those  who 
were  to  gird  on  his  armour;  and  holding  out  his 
sword,  solemnly  declared  and  swore,  that  his  motive 
and  end  in  entering  into  the  order  was  to  maintain 
and  promote  the  honour  and  interests  of  religion. and 
chivalry. 

The  assistants,  some  of  whom  were  ladies,  having 
bound  on  his  armour  and  suitable  ornaments,  he  Itnelt 
before  the  sovereign,  or  presiding  knight,  who,  by 
three  strokes  with  the  flat  of  the  naked  sword  on  the 
neck  or  shoulders,  dubbed  him  a  knight.  Sometimes 
it  was  done  with  the  palm  of  the  hand  on  the  cheek. 
In  either  case  the  action  was  accompanied  with  these 
words :  "  In  the  name  of  God,  of  Saint  Michael,  and 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  47 

Saint  George,  I  make  thee  a  knight ;  be  worthy,  brave, 
and  loyal !"  Then  his  buckler  and  helmet  being  also 
put  on,  he  grasped  his  spear,  and  walking  forth,  leaped 
without  stirrup  on  his  horse,  performing  several 
courses  and  flourishes  to  show  his  dexterity,  amidst 
the  acclamations  of  his  friends  and  of  the  multitude, 
who  usually  attended  to  witness  the  pageant. 
In  the  year  ]  108,  Philip  died,  and 

LOUIS  THE   SIXTH 

Succeeded  to  the  crown.  He  had  early  to  contend 
with  and  subdue  several  powerful  and  daring  conspi- 
rators, who  sought  to  exclude  him  from  the  govern- 
ment. The  most  distinguished  among  them,  once 
said  to  his  countess,  as  he  buckled  on  his  armour, 
"  I  now  put  it  on  with  the  hands  of  a  count,  but  will 
take  it  off  Avith  those  of  a  king."  That  very  day, 
however,  the  knight  was  slain.  It  was  during  the 
reign  of  this  monarch  and  of  his  predecessor,  that 
the  far-famed  Crusades  became  the  all-engrossing 
subject  of  attention  throughout  Europe.  The  fre- 
quent, and  sometimes  exaggerated  accounts,  of  cruel- 
ties practised  on  devout  pilgrims  to  the  Holy  Sepul- 
chre at  Jerusalem,  and  the  reports  of  the  insults  that 
were  offered  to  the  most  holy  mysteries  and  monu- 
ments of  Christianity,  filled  all  Christendom  with 
zealous  indignation.  The  increasing  flame  was  eflxjc- 
tually  fanned  by  the  breath  of  Peter  the  Hermit — to 
whom  undoubtedly  belongs  the  merit,  or,  to  speak 


4b  BEAUTIES  OF 

more  correctly,  the  demerit,  of  originating  the  Cru- 
sades to  the  Holy  Land.  Peter  Avas  a  native  of 
Amiens,  in  France ;  a  man  of  diminutive  stature,  and 
mean  appearance,  but  of  an  ingenious  mind,  and  pos- 
sessing a  rude  yet  powerful  and  effective  eloquence. 
Princes,  clergy,  nobles,  and  people  eagerly  listened, 
were  persuaded,  and  became  ready  to  sacrifice  home, 
fortune,  and  country,  and  embark  upon  the  important, 
and,  as  it  was  deemed,  sacred  enterprise  of  WTCsting 
Palestine  from  the  Infidel.  The  pope,  Urban  the  Se- 
cond, assembled  a  great  coimcil  at  Placentia,  a.  d. 
1095 — which  was  attended  by  4000  clergy,  and 
30,000  laymen,  from  France,  Germany,  and  Italy — 
and  the  crusade  was  resolved  upon.  To  engage  in 
the  holy  war,  monks  quitted  their  cells,  husbands 
forsook  their  wives,  fathers  deserted  their  children ; 
no  tie  was  considered  too  close  to  be  broken ;  and 
princes,  dukes,  barons,  bishops,  abbots,  merchants, 
tradesmen,  mechanics,  labourers,  women  and  chil- 
dren, flocked  round  the  banner  his  holiness  had  un- 
furled ;  until  the  number  enrolled  in  the  list  of  war- 
riors is  said  to  have  amounted  to  six  millions.  It 
seemed  as  if  all  Europe  was  ready  to  precipitate  itself 
upon  Asia.  The  principal  French  leader,  next  to  Pe- 
ter the  Hermit,  was  Walter  Senseavir,  known  as  Wal- 
ter the  Pennyless,  a  poor,  but  noble  and  experienced 
soldier. 

By  disease,  desertion,  and  losses  in  the  various 
battles  fought  on  the  way,  the  Christian  army  was 


FRENCH   HISTORY. 


49 


reduced  to  about  20,000  effective  men  when  they  en- 
camped before  Jerusalem.  After  a  siege  of  fiv.e  weeks 
they  succeeded  in  taking  the  city ;  when  they  gave 
no  quarter  to  the  enemy,  but  coolly  butchered  every 
man,  woman,  and  child,  within  its  walls  5  then,  as- 
suming the  habit  and  manner  of  pilgrims,  they 
marched  in  solemn  procession  to  the  Holy  Sepul- 
chre, with  blood-stained  hands  embraced  it,  offered 
up  thanksgivings  amid  the  groans  of  tens  of  thou- 
sands dying,  and,  believing  they  were  doing  God 
service,  prayed  for  strength  to  commit  farther  mas- 


sacre ; 


It  is  but  justice,  however,  to  state,  that  ridiculous 
and  cruel  as  were  the  crusades  to  the  Holy  Land, 
they  did  more  towards  promoting  literature  than 
merely  rouse  the  mind :  they  took  off  the  pressure 
of  ecclesiastical  despotism,  not  only  by  the  indul- 
gence and  liberty  granted  generally  on  such  occa- 
sions by  the  church,  but  by  the  departure  of  many 
spiritual  tyrants,  whose  absence  gave  a  relaxation  of 
spirit  before  unknown ;  they  produced  frequent  in- 
tercourse among  men  during  the  preparations  which 
were  made  for  the  expedition ;  they  led  to  important 
inquiries  into  the  nature  and  state  of  the  countries 
through  which  they  were  to  march,  as  well  as  of 
those  in  which  they  were  to  engage  in  warfare ;  they 
were  the  occasion  of  general  and  sustained  corres- 
pondence betwixt  Europe  and  Asia ;  and  they  gave  a 
turn  for  observation  and  comparison.  These  excite- 
5 


50  BEAUTIES  OF 

ments  and  communications  led  to  more  extensive 
discussions  and  investigations :  journals,  memoirs, 
particular  and  general  histories,  Etc.,  were  written ; 
and  geography,  especially,  was  cultivated.  The  cler- 
gy of  the  Eastern  and  Western  churches,  who  had 
only  heard  of  each  other  by  means  of  controversies, 
and  through  the  medium  of  prejudice,  now  embraced, 
conversed  together,  and  imparted  their  knowledge, 
their  manuscripts,  and  other  modes  of  learning  and 
improvement. 

Louis  patronized  and  protected  the  son  of  Robert, 
brother  of  Henry  the  First,  king  of  England,  by 
whom  Robert  himself  was  detained  in  prison.  He, 
therefore,  proclaimed  William  duke  of  Normandy, 
and  sought  to  maintain  him  in  his  duchy  by  force  of 
arms.  The  French  king  was,  however,  unsuccess- 
ful ;  he  Avas  beaten  by  the  English  at  Brenneville,  in 
1119,  and  the  Normans  renewed  their  oaths  of  fealty 
to  Henry  and  his  son.  But  Henry  at  this  time  suf- 
fered a  domestic  calamity  that  more  than  counter- 
balanced his  prosperity  in  the  north  of  Europe.  His 
only  son,  William,  had  embarked  at  Barfleur,  after 
receiving  the  homage  of  the  Norman  barons ;  but,  in 
consequence  of  the  captain  of  the  vessel  and  his  crew 
being  intoxicated,  the  ship  struck  on  a  rock,  and  im- 
mediately foundered.  William  was  put  into  the  long- 
boat, and  had  got  clear  of  the  vessel ;  when,  hearing 
the  shrieks  of  his  natural  sister,  he  ordered  the  sea- 
men to  put  back  and  save  her.   But  the  numbers  that 


FRENCH  HIS  TORT.  51 

crowded  in,  sunk  the  boat,  and  the  humane  prince 
perished.  A  butcher  of  Rouen,  a  remarkably  strong 
^nan,  was  tlie  only  person  who  escaped.  He  climbed 
t6  the  top  of  the  mast,  and  clung  to  it,  until  he  was 
re^ued  by  some  fishermen.  It  is  said  that  the  cap- 
laiii,  Fitzstephen,  had  also  the  same  means  of  preser- 
vation in  his  power;  but  when  informed  by  the 
bupher  that  the  prince  was  drowned,  he  let  go  his 
ho^d,  and  fell  into  the  sea. 
/Louis  VI.  died  in  1137,  and  was  succeeded  by  his 

LOUIS  THE   SEVENTH, 

Who,  after  having  reduced  his  rebellious  vassal,  the 
yi  count  of  Champagne,  to  obedience,  exceeded  even 
^  the  usual  cruelty  of  conquerors ;  and,  instead  of 
■  1^  sheathing  his  sword  when  the  inhabitants  of  Vetri 
submitted,  set  fire  to  a  church  in  which  thirteen  hun- 
dred of  them  had  taken  refuge,  and  burnt  them  alive. 
In  a  fit  of  remorse  for  this  merciless  act,  he  resolved 
to  undertake  a  pilgrimage  to  Jerusalem ;  and  became 
the  first  sovereign  prince  who  engaged  to  fight  under 
VS  the  banner  of  the  Cross. 

The  reign  of  this  monarch  is  distinguished  in  poe- 
try and  romance  by  the  loves  of  Abelard  and  Eloise. 
Abelard' was  vain  of  his  personal  attractions  and  in- 
tellectual attainments,  and  imagined  himself  wholly 
irresistible  by  the  fair  sex.  Eloise,  his  pupil,  was 
young,  beautiful,  learned,  and  highly  accomplished. 


52  BEAUTIES  OF 

Abelard  grossly  abused  the  trust  reposed  in  him,  and 
married  her  privately.  The  Avrath  of  her  uncle,  a  ca- 
non, and  her  relatives,  compelled  the  one  to  take  re- 
fuge in  a  cloister,  and  the  other  to  become  a  nun  and 
seclude  herself  in  the  abbey  of  Argenteuil.  Abelard, 
some  years  after,  built  a  monastery,  -which  he  called 
Paraclete,  or  the  Comforter,  and  of  which  he  appoint- 
ed her  abbess,  where  she  ended  her  days.  The  let- 
ters that  passed  between  them  after  their  separation, 
are  exquisite  specimens  of  composition.  Pope's 
poem  on  the  subject  is  composed  chiefly  of  passages 
taken  from  them,  and  versified. 

Towards  the  end  of  his  days,  Louis  came  over 
to  England,  for  the  purpose  of  visiting  the  tomb  of 
Thomas  a  Becket — famed,  in  that  superstitious  age, 
for  its  miraculous  cures.  He  died  in  1 180,  and  left 
the  kingdom  of  France  to  his  son, 

PHILIP  THE   SECOND. 

The  reign  of  this  monarch  was  rendered  notorious 
by  a  general  persecution  of  the  Jews,  who  had  set^ 
tied  in  considerable  numbers  in  France.  Their  suc- 
cess and  industry  were  envied  by  those  who  would 
not  imitate  their  diligence  and  care.  They  had  be- 
come so  wealthy,  as  almost  to  engross  the  whole 
commerce  of  Paris,  and  the  principal  cities  of  the  pro- 
vinces. The  king  entered  into  the  spirit  of  the 
church  and  of  the  people ;  passed  against  them  se- 
veral severe  laws ;  and,  at  length,  banished  them  out 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  63 

of  the  kingdom.  One  of  the  most  prominent  charges 
against  them,  was,  that  they  had  crowned  a  Christian 
v/ith  thorns,  in  derision,  and  afterwards  scourged  and 
crucified  him.  Upon  this  charge  fourscore  were  ap- 
prehended and  burnt. 

Philip  fought  in  Palestine,  beside  his  illustrious 
rival  and  great  competitor  in  the  race  of  glory,  Rich- 
ard the  first  of  England;  but  envy  prompted  the 
French  monarch  to  adopt  the  basest  means  of  calum- 
niating the  more  frank  and  unsuspicious  sovereign  of 
"  the  lion's  heart."  There  was  in  Asia  a  petty  prince, 
called  "  the  old  Man  of  the  Mountain,"  who  had  ac- 
quired such  an  ascendancy  over  his  fanatical  subjects, 
that  they  implicitly  obeyed  his  commands,  esteemed 
assassination  meritorious  v/hen  sanctioned  by  his  or- 
ders, courted  danger  and  death  in  his  service,  and  be- 
lieved that  the  highest  joys  of  paradise  would  be  the 
infallible  reward  of  their  devoted  obedience.  Against 
the  attempts  of  his  subtle  ruffians,  no  precaution  or 
power  was  a  sufficient  guard.  This  prince  of  the  As- 
sassins (for  Assassins  was  the  name  given  to  his  peo- 
ple ;  whence  the  word  has  passed  into  most  European 
languages)  procured  the  murder  of  Conrad,  Marquis 
of  Montferrat,  openly,  at  midday,  in  the  streets  of 
Sidon;  and,  although  the  deed  was  avowed  by  its 
author,  and  confirmed  by  the  confession  of  the  mur- 
derers, Philip  endeavoured  to  fix  the  crime  upon  the 
English  king,  and  made  this  shallow  artifice  the  pre- 
text for  attacking  his  possessions  in  France,  in  de- 
5* 


64  BEAUTIES  OP 

fence  of  which,  Richard  carried  on  a  bloody  and  suc- 
cessful war  against  him ;  but  on  the  accession  of  John 
to  the  British  throne,  they  were  wrested  from  the 
feeble  hands  of  that  weak  and  treacherous  monarch. 

Philip  had  encouraged  and  supported  the  rebellion 
of  John  against  his  brother,  while  the  king  waa  a 
prisoner  in  Germany;  but  when  ransomed  by  his 
subjects  from  his  imprisonment,  the  French  king 
wrote  to  his  confederate,  John,  these  words:  "Take 
care  of  yourself;  the  devil  is  broken  loose."  During 
the  war,  John  deserted  Philip,  threw  himself  at  his 
brother's  feet,  and  entreated  pardon.  "  I  forgive  him," 
said  Richard,  "  and  hope  I  shall  as  easily  forget  his 
injuries  as  he  will  my  pardon."  A  remarkable  in- 
cident of  the  war,  was  the  taking  prisoner,  in  battle, 
of  the  Bishop  of  Beauvais.  Richard  threw  him  into 
prison ;  and,  when  the  pope  demanded  his  liberty, 
on  the  ground  of  his  being  a  son  of  the  church,  he 
sent  to  his  Holiness  the  coat  of  mail  which  the  pre- 
late had  worn,  and  which  was  besmeared  with  blood ; 
replying  to  the  mandate  in  the  words  used  by  Jacob's 
sons  to  the  patriarch:  "This  have  we  found,  but 
know  not  whether  it  be  thy  son's  coat  or  no." 

After  the  death  of  Richard,  the  French  king  re- 
solved to  obtain  possession  of  Chateau  Gaillard,  the 
key  to  the  British  dominions  in  Normandy ;  and  suc- 
ceeded in  taking  the  fortress  and  town  by  two  extra- 
ordinary stratagems.  Gaubert,  a  native  of  Mantes, 
an  excellent  swimmer  and  diver,  undertook  to  carry 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  56 

fire  in  pots  attached  to  his  naked  body,  and  kindle 
the  palisades  by  which  the  town  was  defended.  The 
plan  was  successful,  and  the  garrison  surrendered. 
The  Chateau  Gaillard  Avas  gained  in  a  manner  equally 
daring.  A  French  sergeant,  named  Peter  Bogis  Camus, 
or  Red-nose,  descried  a  small  window  in  the  wall, 
which  was  intended  to  give  light  and  air  to  a  maga- 
zine. He  proposed  to  enter  the  apartment  by  this 
aperture,  assisted  by  such  as  were  willing  to  follow 
him.  He  accomplished  his  object,  opened  the  gates 
to  the  army;  and  Philip  took  quiet  possession  of 
the  place,  which  left  the  English  territory  in  France 
an  easy  conquest. 

Philip  next  engaged  in  war  with  Otho,  Emperor 
of  Germany.  In  the  first  battle  fought  between  the 
rival  monarchs,  a  German  knight,  named  Eustache, 
of  Magueline,  rode  forward  before  his  troops,  ex- 
claiming "  Death  to  the  French  !"  thinking  to  inspire 
his  soldiers  with  a  degree  of  enthusiasm  that  would 
be  fatal  to  his  enemies.  He  was  immediately  sur- 
rounded ;  but,  in  consequence  of  the  peculiar  strength 
and  closeness  of  his  armour,  it  was  found  impossible 
to  "inflict  a  wound.  At  length  one  of  them,  seizing 
the  helmet  of  Eustache  between  his  arm  and  breast, 
pulled  it  away  while  another,  Avith  a  short  knife  cut 
off  his  head. — Philip,  every  where  victorious,  died 
in  the  58th  year  of  his  age,  a.  d.  1223.* 

■  *  During  this  reign  a  curious  case  of  restoration  to  health  by 
means  of  relics  of  the  Saints  is  recorded.    "  On  the  20th  July, 


56  BEAUTIES  OP 


LOUIS  THE  EIGHTH, 

Who  succeeded  his  father,  had  been  previously  pro- 
claimed King  of  England,  grounding  liis  claim  to  the 
crown  of  that  country  of  the  right  of  his  wife,  Blanche, 
granddaughter  of  Henry  the  Second.  But,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  death  of  John,  which  happened  ai  a 
critical  moment,  the  English  barons,  by  whom  the 
French  prince  had  been  invited  over,  transferred  their 
allegiance  to  the  amiable  Henry  the  Third,  the  eldest 
son  of  the  wicked  and  vacillating  John. 

During  the  reign  of  this  king,  and  of  his  predeces- 
sor, the  rage  for  tilts  and  tournaments  became  exces- 
sive.    So  fond  were  the  French  of  these  spectacles, 

A.  D.  1191,"  says  Rigord,  "Louis,  son  of  Philip,  was  taken  ill 
of  a  disease,  called  a  dysentery ;  they  despaired  of  his  recovery ; 
but  after  due  deliberation  a  solemn  fast  and  procession  were 
resolved  on.  The  whole  fraternity  of  St.  Denis  marched  bare- 
foot to  the  church  of  St.  Lazarus,  carrying  one  of  the  nails  of 
the  crucifixion,  the  sacred  crown  of  thorns,  and  an  arm  of  old 
Simeon;  there,  having  offered  the  most  fervent  supplications, 
they  were  met  by  the  inmates  of  all  the  convents  of  Paris,  the 
scholars  of  the  Academy,  and  citizens,  hkewise  barefoot,  carry- 
ing relics,  groaning  audibly,  and  weeping  bitterly;  thence 
they  proceeded  to  the  palace  in  which  the  young  prince  lay ; 
where  a  sermon  was  preached  to  the  multitude.  The  nail,  the 
crown  of  thorns,  and  arm  of  Simeon,  were  solemnly  appUed 
by  touch,  and  passed  along  and  across  the  belly  of  the  patient; 
he  kissed  them  and  received  the  benediction :  all  this  not  only 
cured  him,  but  changed  the  state  of  the  atmosphere  and  of  the 
Bcaaon,  which  till  then  had  been  very  wet  and  unfavourable." 


FRENCH   HISTORY.  57 

that  they  preferred  them  to  every  other  amusement, 
indulging  in  them  notwithstanding  their  ecclesiastical 
prohibition,  and  by  particular  civil  laws  authorizing 
and  regulating  them  as  matters  of  the  utmost  impor- 
tance. 

The  time  and  place  of  their  exhibition  were  ex- 
tensively and  solemnly  proclaimed  by  heralds ;  and 
every  man  who  had  any  ambition  to  be  distin- 
guished for  nobility,  martial  prowess,  honour,  and 
gallantry,  attended  and  pressed  into  the  lists  of  com- 
batants. Veterans  were  anxious  to  display  at  home 
the  feats  of  strength,  expertness,  and  skill,  which  had 
distinguished  them  abroad;  while  the  young  were 
desirous  to  try  their  martial  talents  to  emulate  men 
of  renown,  and  to  learn,  on  occasions  so  public  and 
critical,  the  most  dexterous  management  and  use  of 
arms.  It  was  a  fatiguing,  laborious,  and  often  dan- 
gerous exercise ;  yet,  being  countenanced  by  ladies 
in  great  numbers,  and  of  the  highest  rank,  it  was  ani- 
mated by  their  presence,  and  mollified  by  the  respect 
shown  for  their  feelings  and  judgment.  They  did 
not  attend  merely  as  spectators,  but  bore  a  consir 
derable  share  in  the  ceremonies,  and  were  constituted 
the  judges  of  the  combat;  by  their  decision  the  victors 
being  declared  and  crowned. 

The  reign  of  Louis  the  Seventh  is  chiefly  remark- 
able for  his  unjust  and  cruel  domestic  crusades 
against  the  Albigenses,  whose  lands  had  been  be- 
stowed upon  him  by  the  pope.    This  brave  and  per- 


S8  BEAUTIES  OP 

secuted  people,  miscalled  heretics,  had  even  at  this 
early  period  abjured  many  of  the  grosser  errors  of 
the  church  of  Rome ;  but  after  several  hard  struggles, 
and  enduring  the  most  dreadful  persecution,  they 
were  forced  to  submit,  and  yield  to  the  terms  dic- 
tated by  a  bigoted  and  merciless  conqueror.  Many 
thousands  were  torn  from  their  valleys  and  driven 
into  exile  5  and  scaffolds  were  erected  and  fires  kin- 
dled in  all  the  neighbouring  cities,  on  which  those 
who  had  most  fortitude  perished.  The  faith  and 
constancy  of  these  martyrs,  however,  rose  superior 
to  their  trials.  "  Favour  me,"  said  Catalan  Girard, 
one  of  them,  as  he  sat  on  the  funeral  pile,  "  by  giving 
me  those  two  flint-stones."  They  were  handed  to 
him.  "  Sooner,"  said  he,  "  shall  I  eat  these  stones, 
than  you  shall  be  able  to  destroy  by  persecution  the 
religion  for  which  I  die."  * 

Louis  died  in  1226,  and  left  the  crown  to  his  eld- 
est son, 

*  As  an  instance  of  the  absurd  nature  of  some  of  the  Romish 
festivals  in  this  reign,  it  is  mentioned,  that  at  Beauvais  one  was 
celebrated  on  the  11th  of  January,  in  commemoration  of  Jo- 
seph's flight,  with  Jesus  and  his  mother,  into  Egypt.  A  hand- 
some young  woman,  with  a  good-looking  child,  having  been  set 
on  an  ass,  was  followed  by  the  bishop  and  clergy  from  the  ca- 
thedral church  of  St.  Stephen;  where  mass  being  performed, 
the  priest  concluded  it,  not  in  the  usual  words  of  the  mass  ser- 
vice, "ite  missa  est,"  but  with  an  imitation  of  the  braying  of 
an  ass,  "  hin-hau,"  three  times  repeated. 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  59 

LOUIS  THE  NINTH, 

Named  St.  Louis,  who  was  but  twelve  years  of  age 
when  he  ascended  the  throne.  He  united  to  the 
mean  and  abject  superstition  of  a  monk,  all  the  cou- 
rage and  magnanimity  of  a  hero,  the  justice  and  in- 
tegrity of  a  patriot,  and  the  mildness  and  humanity 
of  a  philosopher.  In  the  wars  between  him  and 
Henry  the  Third  of  England,  the  French  king  was 
generally  victorious.  On  one  occasion  their  armies 
met  near  Taillebourg,  on  the  river  Charente.  The 
English  troops-  consisted  of  20,000  infantry,  1600 
knights,  with  their  attendants,  and  600  cross-bow 
men ;  the  French  force  being  superior,  especially  in 
cavalry.  The  contest  was  severe,  and  the  latter  were 
losing  ground,  when  Louis  leaped  from  his  horse, 
called  on  his  men  to  follow,  and,  pressing  forward, 
the  rout  of  the  English  was  complete.  Henry  was 
overtaken  and  almost  surrounded,  when  his  brother 
Richard,  putting  off  his  helmet  and  cuirass,  advanced 
with  a  small  cane  in  his  hand  and  demanded  a  par- 
ley. Louis,  who  esteemed  him  highly,  consented  to 
a  truce :  "  Go  tell  your  brother,"  said  he,  "  that  at 
your  desire  I  grant  him  a  suspension  of  arms  till  to- 
morrow, that  he  may  have  time  to  deliberate  on  his 
situation."  Henry,  however,  had  fled,  and  was  fol- 
lowed to  Saintes ;  so  keen,  indeed,  was  the  pursuit, 
that  some  French  soldiers  entered  the  gates  with  him, 
and  were  taken  prisoners.    After  this  victory,  Louis 


60  BEAUTIES  OF 

ordained  that  such  of  his  vassals  as  held  English 
titles  and  estates,  should  choose  which  king  they 
preferred;  alleging,  in  the  words  of  the  Scripture, 
that  "  no  man  can  serve  two  masters  •,"  and  decreeing 
that  they  must  thenceforward  hold  wholly  to  the  one 
or  the  other. 

In  tlie  year  1248,  Louis,  following  the  example  of 
some  of  his  predecessors,  resolved  on  a  crusade  to 
Palestine.  Soon  after  embarking  at  Cyprus,  the  fleet 
arrived  in  sight  of  Damietta,  on  the  eastern  branch  of 
the  Nile,  then  considered  the  strongest  and  wealthiest 
city  of  Egypt.  The  scene  is  eloquently  described  by 
an  eye-witness,  the  historian  Joinville.  The  sultan 
commanded  in  person,  his  armour  of  gold  reflecting 
the  sun's  rays  with  exceeding  splendour;  and  the 
Turkish  music  was  heard  distinctly  as  it  floated  over 
the  waters.  Notwithstanding  the  advice  of  some  of 
his  nobles,  the  king  resolved  to  land  at  daybreak,  in 
the  face  of  the  sultan  and  the  numerous  host  he  had 
assembled  to  oppose  the  invaders.  Flat-bottomed 
boats  were  provided  for  carrying  the  troops  from  the 
ships ;  and,  on  a  signal  given,  all  moved  towards  the 
shore,  preceded  by  a  shallop  bearing  the  sacred  ori- 
flarame.*    The  king's  barge  was  among  the  first  that 

"  *  The  oriflamme,  or  national  standard  of  France,  was  origin- 
ally a  lance  or  long  spear  of  gilded  copper,  with  a  flag  of  red 
silk  attached  to  it.  During  peace  it  was  lodged  in  the  church 
of  St.  Dennis,  whence,  on  the  march  of  the  army  on  great  occa- 
sions, it  was  taken  by  the  king  with  much  religious  solemnity. 


FRENCH  HISTORF.  61 

grounded ;  he  instantly  leaped,  neck  high,  into  the 
water,  and  was  followed  by  his  principal  knights, 
amid  a  shower  of  missile  weapons  from  the  enemy. 
They  had  scarcely  secured  a  footing,  when  they  pre- 
sented an  impenetrable  mass  of  spears;  the  Egyp- 
tians fled,  and  Damietta  was  taken.  Pursuing  their 
victories,  however,  with  more  rashness  than  caution, 
Louis  and  his  army  were  forced  to  surrender  at  dis- 
cretion, and  were  of  course  treated  with  great  cruel- 
ty ;  many  thousands  of  the  French  being  massacred 
in  cold  blood. 

The  sultan  having  agreed  to  ransom  the  monarch 
and  his  people  for  500,000  livres,  besides  the  surren- 
der of  Damietta,  the  terms  were  accepted  by  Louis, 
and  confirmed  by  the  oaths  of  both  parties.  The 
sultan  subsequently  observed  that  the  king  of  France 
was  Frank  indeed,  and  had  not  higgled  for  a  smaller 
sum  ;  adding,  "  Go  tell  him  that  I  hereby  remit  him 
100,000  livres  of  my  demand,  as  a  reward  for  his 
liberality." 

Louis  the  Ninth  died  A.  d.  1270,  and  was  succeed- 
ed by 

PHILIP  THE  THIRD,  SURNAMED  THE  HARDY, 

Who,  soon  after  he  ascended  the  throne,  had  to  en- 
counter domestic  troubles.  Having  married  a  second 
wife,  Mary,  sister  to  the  duke  of  Brabant,  she  ac- 
quired considerable  influence  over  him,  and  was  con- 
sequently disliked  by  his  former  favourites.  One  of 
6 


62  BEAUTIES  OF 

them,  La  Brosse,  the  king's  chief  barber  and  surgeon 
(two  professions  then  generally  united),  souglit  to  ef- 
fect her  destruction  by  insinuating  that  she  had  poi- 
soned a  daughter  of  Philip  by  his  first  wife.  The 
unhappy  and  calumniated  lady  narrowly  escaped 
being  burnt  to  death.  Her  brother  undertook  her 
defence  by  duel,  but  the  slanderer  absconded.  Yet 
such  were  the  rumours  over  the  kingdom,  and  such 
the  king's  perplexity,  that  he  employed  two  prelates 
to  consult  a  famous  Pythoness,  or  witch,  of  those 
times.  The  report  of  the  oracle  was  favourable  to 
the  queen ;  and  the  barber  was  shortly  afterwards 
taken  and  hanged. 

Philip  the  Third  died  in  1285,  and  tlie  throne  was 
inherited  by  his  son, 

PIIILir  THE  FOURTH  CtHE  FAIr). 

About  four  years  after  he  began  his  reign,  a  war 
broke  out  between  England  and  France,  originating, 
it  is  said,  in  a  scuffle  between  two  sailors.  A  Nor- 
man and  an  English  ship  sending  their  boats  at  the 
same  time  for  fresh  water  to  a  spring  near  Bayonne, 
the  men  quarrelled  about  precedency,  and  in  a  strug- 
gle, one  of  the  former  nation  was  slain.  The  Nor- 
mans complained  to  the  French  king,  and  demanded 
redress.  In  reply,  they  were  told  to  take  it  them- 
selves. The  hint  was  sufficient.  They  seized  the 
first  British  ship  they  met,  and  hung  several  of  the 
crew,  with  some  dogs,  at  the  yard-arm.  The  EnglisJi 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  63 

retaliated  severely ;  and  the  ocean  became  the  daily 
scene  of  violence  and  barbarity.  At  length  a  fleet  of 
200  Norman  vessels  were  encountered  by  sixty  Bri- 
tish ships  of  war,  which  took  or  sunk  the  greater 
number  of  them ;  and  as  no  quarter  was  given  on 
either  side,  15,000  Frenchmen  perished.  The  war, 
however,  for  a  time  deprived  the  English  of  the  pro- 
vince of  Guienne. 

Philip  died  in  1314:  his  son,  Louis  the  Tenth, 
called  Hutin,  or  the  Quarrelsome,  succeeded ;  and  by 
his  death,  without  issue  male,  in  1316,  the  crown  was 
inherited  by  his  brother, 

PHILIP  THE  FIFTH,  OR  (tHE  TALl). 

His  reign  is  chiefly  remarkable  for  the  severe  edicts 
that  were  issued  against  the  Jews  of  the  French  do- 
minions. Laws  were  passed  which  declared  it  cri- 
minal to  favour  or  protect  them;  and  they  were  taken 
and  hanged  in  companies  Avherever  they  could  be 
found.  Forty  of  them  being  imprisoned  at  Vitri,  and 
having  little  hope  of  escape  or  liberation,  resolved  to 
perish  by  each  other's  hands,  rather  than  continue  in 
the  power  of  their  common  enemies,  the  Christians. 
They  prevailed  on  the  oldest,  with  the  assistance  of 
the  youngest,  to  be  their  executioners.  These  two 
finally  contended  which  should  die  first,  and  the 
young  man  was  with  much  difficulty  persuaded  to  be 
the  survivor :  he  then  collected  their  treasure,  and, 
having  made  a  cord,  let  himself  down  from  the  win- 


64  BEAUTIES  OF 

dow;  it  was  too  short;  he  allowed  himself  to  drop, 
and  in  the  fall  his  leg  was  broken :  he  was  taken,  and 
hanged. 

Philip  the  Fifth  died  a.  d.  1322,  and  was  succeed- 
ed by  his  brother, 

CHARLES  THE  FOURTH  (tHE  HANDSOMe), 

Who,  dying  in  1328,  without  male  issue,  the  direct 
line  from  Hugh  Capet  failed,  and  the  throne  descend- 
ed to  a  member  of  the  race  of  Valois. 


THE  RACE  OF  VALOIS. 


PHILIP  THE   SIXTH. 

Philip  was  cousin-gcrman  to  Charles  the  Fourth, 
being  the  son  of  Charles  de  Valois,  brother  to  Philip 
the  Fair.  The  English  king,  Edward  the  Third,  as  he 
was  descended  in  a  more  direct  line  from  this  latter 
monarch,  although  by  a  female  branch,  laid  claim  to 
the  crown  of  France.  His  claim  was,  however,  reject- 
ed by  the  French  Court  of  Peers,  and  the  coronation 
of  Philip  almost  immediately  followed.  The  French 
king,  with  a  view  to  put  an  end  at  once  to  the  hopes 
of  the  English  monarch,  summoned  him  to  do  hom- 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  65 

age  as  his  vassal  for  the  province  of  Guienne.  Tiie 
indignant  Edward  refused  an  interview  to  the  ambas- 
sadors, but  sent  them  a  sarcastic  message, — that  it 
was  too  much  to  expect  the  son  of  a  king  to  pay  ho- 
mage to  the  son  of  a  count.  Edward,  however,  upon 
reflection,  Avas  induced  to  submit ;  but  the  passion 
that  was  suppressed,  soon  afterwards  broke  forth  with 
double  violence ;  and  in  the  year  1340,  having  first 
gained  a  decisive  victory  at  sea,  he  landed  in  France 
at  the  head  of  a  large  army ;  but,  from  a  variety  of 
causes,  the  war  was  postponed  until  1346,  a  period 
rendered  famous  in  the  annals  of  Great  Britain  by  the 
battle  of  Crecy. 

Between  the  years  1340  and  1346,  however,  the 
English  army  and  their  allies  had  successively  gained 
and  lost  many  towns  and  fortresses.  Hennebone — 
one  of  the  strongest  in  Brittany,  was  remarkable  for 
the  brave  and  prolonged  defence  of  its  garrison, 
headed  by  a  woman,  against  the  army  of  Philip's 
nephew,  Charles.  Jane,  Countess  of  Montfort,  after 
having  seen  her  husband  taken  prisoner,  had,  with 
her  infant  son,  fixed  her  residence  at  Hennebone,  and 
there  awaited  the  interference  of  Edward,  in  her 
behalf. 

Clad  in  complete  aimour,  she  appeared  among  the 
foremost  in  every  military  operation  either  of  attack 
or  defence.  Observing  on  one  occasion,  the  enemy 
engaged  so  keenly  in  one  quarter  as  totally  to  ne- 
glect another,  she  sprung  on  horseback,  and  sallying 
6* 


66  BEAUTIES  OF 

out  unperceived  by  the  besiegers,  with  two  hundred 
horsemen,  fell  like  lightning  on  their  camp,  and 
burned  their  tents  and  magazines.  The  conflagration 
alarming  the  besiegers,  they  intercepted  her  retreat ; 
but,  with  great  presence  of  mind,  she  ordered  her 
men  to  disperse  and  every  one  to  consult  his  own 
safety.  Five  days  afterwards  she  met  them  again  at 
a  place  of  rendezvous,  and  having  received  a  rein- 
forcement of  500  horse,  returned  in  triumph  through 
the  midst  of  the  enemy,  and  again  entered  Henne- 
bone.  The  garrison,  animated  by  her  example,  held 
out  to  the  last  extremity,  but  were  at  length  on  the 
point  of  surrendering — she  alone  opposing  the  reso- 
lution that  famine  and  danger  had  induced  them  to 
form,  and  a  treaty  of  surrender  being  in  process  of 
signature  by  the  chief  officers, — when  the  countess, 
ever  on  the  watch,  espied  the  English  fleet.  "  Cou- 
rage," she  cried,  "  courage  yet,  my  friends ;  no  capi- 
tulation ;  the  English  are  at  hand."  The  town  was 
relieved. 

On  the  25th  August,  1346,  was  fought  the  ever- 
memorable  battle  of  Crecy — the  circumstances  con- 
nected with  which  must  be  familiar  to  every  English 
reader.  The  Prince  of  Wales — afterwards  Edward 
the  Black  Prince — contributed  greatly  by  his  valour 
to  secure  the  victory.  Although  but  fifteen  years  of 
age,  he  gave  abundant  proof  that  he  merited  the 
honour  of  knighthood  which  his  father  had  recently 
bestowed  upon   him.     While   hotly  engaged   with 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  67 

some  French  cavalry,  a  messenger  was  despatched 
to  the  king,  by  the  Earl  of  Warwick,  entreating 
him  to  send  succour  to  the  prince,  Edward,  how- 
ever, who  had  surveyed  from  the  top  of  a  hill  the 
gallant  bearing  of  his  eldest  boy,  returned  this 
answer:  "  Go  back  to  my  son,  and  tell  him  and  his 
fellow-warriors,  that  I  will  not  interpose  to  take  from 
them  the  honour  of  repelling  the  enemy ;  which  they 
can  do  without  my  assistance."  Edward  triumphed  ; 
and  when  the  battle  was  over,  was  embraced  by  his 
father,  who  proudly  said,  "  My  brave  son  !  persevere 
in  your  honourable  career;  for  valiantly  have  you 
borne  yourself  to  day.  You  have  shown  yourself 
worthy  of  an  empire."  The  blind  King  of  Bohemia 
was  found  among  the  slain :  his  crest  was  three 
ostrich  feathers  ;  and  his  motto  these  German  words, 
IcH  DiEX,  I  serve,  which  the  Prince  of  Wales  adopted 
in  memorial  of  the  great  victory;  and  which  the 
eldest  sons  of  the  British  kings  have  ever  since  re- 
tained. 

Philip  fled  from  the  fatal  field,  and  about  midnight 
reached  the  castle  of  Braye.  On  being  asked  by  the 
governor  before  he  admitted  him,  "  Who  is  without?" 
''  Open,"  he  replied  ;  "  it  is  the  fortune  of  France." 
Shortly  afterwards  Calais  was  invested,  but  it  cost 
Edward  a  twelvemonth's  siege,  being  gallantly  de- 
fended by  its  governor,  John  of  Vienne.  At  length  the 
knight,  compelled  by  famine  to  surrender,  appeared 
on  the  walls,  and  made  a  sign  to  the  English  senti- 


68  BEAUTIES  OF 

nels  that  he  desired  a  parley.  Sir  Walter  Manny 
was  sent  to  him  by  Edward  :  "Brave  knight,"  cried 
the  Governor,  "  I  have  been  intrusted  by  my  sove- 
reign with  the  command  of  this  town ;  and  I  have 
endeavoured  to  do  my  duty.  But  we  are  perishing 
of  hunger.  I  am  Avilling,  therefore,  to  yield ;  and 
desire  only  to  ensure  the  lives  of  the  brave  men  who 
have  so  long  shared  with  me  every  danger  and  fa- 
tigue." Edward,  however,  who  was  exceedingly  dis- 
pleased at  the  pertinacious  resistance  of  the  people 
of  Calais,  wouid  promise  no  terms ;  and  insisted  that 
six  of  the  principal  inhabitants  should  come  to  his 
camp,  bareheaded  and  barefoot,  and  with  ropes  round 
their  necks,  to  be  dealt  with  as  he  should  think  pro- 
per— on  these  conditions  he  promised  to  spare  the 
lives  of  the  remainder.  While  the  afflicted  citizens 
deliberated  as  to  what  course  they  should  pureue,  one 
of  them,  Eustache  de  St.  Pierre,  stepped  forward,  and 
was  followed  by  five  others,  who  volunteered  them- 
selves to  save  the  city.  The  lives  of  these  heroic 
men  were  preserved  by  the  intercession  of  Edward's 
Queen  and  the  Prince  of  Wales.  The  king  intrusted 
Calais  to  a  traitor  of  Italian  birth — Aimcry  de  Pavie, 
who  agreed  to  sell  his  trust  for  a  sum  of  gold ;  but 
Edward,  having  discovered  his  treachery  in  time  to 
prevent  its  effects,  consented  to  pardon  him  on  con- 
dition that  he  would  turn  the  contrivance  to  the  ruin 
of  the  enemy.  A  day  was  therefore  appointed  for 
th^ir  admission,  and  Edward  secretly  departed  from 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  69 

London,  disguised  as  a  private  soldier,  under  the 
standard  of  Sir  Walter  Manny,  The  French  were 
received  within  the  walls,  and  the  greater  number 
immediately  slain.  Among  them  the  king  observed 
a  knight  fighting  gallantly,  and  challenged  him  to 
single  combat.  They  began  a  sharp  and  perilous 
encounter;  but  at  length  the  knight  seeing  himself 
deserted  by  his  companions,  called  out  to  his  anta- 
gonist, "  Sir  knight,  1  yield  myself  your  prisoner." 
After  the  battle,  the  king  made  himself  known  to  his 
opponent,  presented  to  him  a  string  of  pearls,  and 
restored  him  to  freedom,  without  ransom. 

The  title  of  "  Dauphin,"  which  is  given  to  the 
eldest  son  of  the  French  king,  was  first  assumed  du- 
ring this  reign.  Humbert  the  Second,  Dauphin  of 
Vienne,  being  inconsolable  for  the  loss  of  his  only 
son,  who  had  fallen  from  his  nurse's  arms,  out  of  a 
window,  retired  to  a  monastery  and  left  his  estates  to 
Philip's  son,  on  condition  that  he  should  take  the 
name  of  Dauphin,  and  quarter  the  arms  of  Dauphiny 
with  those  of  France. 

Philip  died  a.  d.  1350,  and  was  succeeded  by  his 
son, 

JOHN  THE   SECOND. 

The  first  John,  a  posthumous  son  of  Louis  the 
Tenth,  lived  but  a  few  days,  and  his  name  is  gene- 
rally omitted  by  the  French  historians  in  the  list  of 
their  kings.     John  the  Second,  surnamed  the  Good, 


70  BEAUTIES   OP 

was  upwards  of  forty  years  old  when  he  ascended 
the  throne. 

During  his  reign  the  battle  of  Poitiers  was  fought 
(1356);  where  the  Prince  of  Wales  commanded  the 
English  forces,  and  increased  the  reputation  he  had 
gained  at  Crecy.  The  French  king  was  vanquished 
and  taken  prisoner.  His  army  fell  helpless  around 
him;  but  he  stoqd  firm  as  a  rock  lashed  by  the 
billows,  and  hewed  down  his  foes,  one  by  one,  as 
they  advanced  to  seize  his  person.  At  length,  ex- 
hausted by  his  exertions,  but  still  unwilling  to  sur- 
render to  an  inferior,  he  cried  out,  "  Where  is  my 
cousin,  the  Prince  of  Wales  ?"  Being  assured  that 
he  was  at  a  distance,  he  threw  down  his  gauntlet  be- 
fore a  knight  of  Arras,  Denis  de  Morbec,  saying, 
"then.  Sir,  I  yield  myself  to  you."  The  young 
prince  afterwards  behaved  so  generously  to  the  fallen 
king,  that  upon  one  occasion  John  shed  tears  as  he 
thanked  his  conqueror.  The  captive  was  conducted 
to  England,  and  landed  at  Southwark ;  where  he  was 
met  by  a  great  concourse  of  people,  of  all  ranks  and 
stations.  He  was  clad  in  royal  apparel,  and  mounted 
on  a  white  steed  of  great  size  and  beauty.  The 
Prince  Edward  rode  by  his  side  upon  a  black  horse, 
and  in  meaner  attire.  They  were  received  by  the 
English  king  and  his  son,  with  pride,  delight,  and 
affection,  and  the  humbled  monarch  was  treated  by 
them  in  a  manner  that  deprived  captivity  of  more 
than  half  the  venom  of  its  sting. 


FRENCH   HISTORY.  71 

Jolm  W.1S  afterwards  ransomed  by  his  subjects,  for 
a  sum  amounting  to  about  jG  1,500,000  of  our  present 
money.  To*  facilitate  the  treaty  by  which  he  ob- 
tained his  freedom,  he  again  visited  England  (in  con- 
sequence ^of  the  inability  of  the  French  nation  to 
furnish  so  large  a  sum,)  and  lodged  in  the  Savoy 
Palace  :  he  was  received  with  courtesy  and  honour 
by  Edward ;  but  had  not  been  long  in  England  be- 
fore he  was  taken  ill,  and  died  a.  d.  1364. 

While  John  was  in  London  the  second  time,  the 
kings  of  Scotland  and  Cyprus  were  also  in  the  city ; 
and  it  is  mentioned  as  the  greatest  honour  ever  en- 
joyed by  a  subject,  that  the  Lord  Mayor,  a  wine 
merchant,  gave  an  elegant  entertainment  at  once  to 
four  monarchs. 

An  account  of  the  ceremonies  that  were  observed 
in  the  thirteenth  and  fourteenth  centuries,  at  the 
coronation  of  the  kings  of  France,  in  the  church  of 
Rheims,  will,  Ave  have  no  doubt,  be  highly  interesting 
to  our  juvenile  readers  5  we  therefore  give  the  fol- 
lowing sketch  of  them  : 

His  majesty  spent  the  night,  or  a  considerable  part 
of  it,  in  devotion,  privately,  in  the  church.  Early 
next  morning,  being  Sabbath  day,  at  the  ringing  of 
the  bell,  the  king's  guards  took  possession  of  the 
principal  gate  of  the  church,  and  the  canons  and 
clergy  their  several  stations  within  it.  After  the 
morning  service,  the  king  entered,  with  the  arch- 
bishops, bishops,  barons,  &.c.,  who   sat  down,  ac- 


72  BEAUTIES  OP 

cording  to  their  rank,  on  seats  prepared  for  them, 
around  the  altar.  Meantime,  a  deputation  of  the 
most  noble  and  potent  barons,  chosen  by  the  king, 
was  sent  by  him  to  the  church  of  St.  Remi,  for  the 
sacred  oil ;  Avhich  they  pledged  their  word  of  honour 
they  would  carefully  and  reverently  return  to  the 
abbot.  The  sacred  phial,  encased  in  gold,  was  then 
carried  under  a  rich  canopy  of  silk  by  the  abbot  and 
monks,  in  solemn  procession.  On  their  arrival  at 
the  great  gate  of  the  church  of  St.  Denis,  they  were 
met  by  the  archbishops,  bishops,  barons,  &c.,  who 
again  engaged  solemnly  to  restore  the  bottle,  which 
was  now  conducted  by  the  abbot  and  monks  to  the 
altar.  The  archbishop  having  assumed  his  appro- 
priate dress,  began  high  mass,  and  the  king  stood  up. 
This  being  done,  the  archbishop,  in  his  own  name, 
and  in  that  of  all  the  churches  and  clergy  of  France, 
addressed  him,  and  presented  the  following  claim : 

"  We  beseech  and  entreat  you  promise  to  us,  that 
you  will  preserve  to  us,  and  to  the  churches  com- 
mitted to  our  care,  our  canonical  privileges,  laws, 
and  constitution,  and  that  you  will  defend  us  and 
our  rights,  as  it  becomes  every  king  in  this  king- 
dom." To  which  the  king  replied,  "  I  do  promise 
and  engage,  that  I  will  maintain  to  each  of  you,  and 
to  the  churches  intrusted  to  your  care,  your  privileges 
and  laws ;  and  that  as  far  as  may  be  in  my  power,  I 
will  defend  you,  as  becomes  a  king  within  this  king- 
dom." 


FRENCH  HISTORY. 


73 


The  following  oath  was  also  administered  to  him : 
«  1  promise,  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  to 
those  subjected  to  my  dominion,  that  I  will  cherish 
and  preserve  always  the  whole  Christian  people,  and 
the  true  peace  of  the  church;  that  I  will  suppress  all 
kinds  of  injustice,  violence,  and  rapine ;  that  I  will 
at  all  times  exercise  justice  and  mercy  in  judgment, 
as  I  hope  that  God  will  show  mercy  to  me  and  my 
people ;  and  that  I  will  faithfully  and  zealously  do 
my  endeavour  to  expel  heretics  out  of  the  kingdom." 
Which  he  confirmed  by  solemnly  laying  his  hand  on 
the  Bible. 

"Te  Deum,"  was  now  performed,  while  the  arch- 
bishops, &c.,  led  the  king  forward  to  the  altar,  at 
which  he  kneeled  till  the  hymn  was  finished,  and  on 
which  were  laid  the  royal  crown,  the  sword  un- 
sheathed, the  golden  spurs  and  sceptre,  a  rod  of  about 
a  cubit  long  with  an  ivory  handle,  sandals  richly 
ornamented,  blue  silk  vests,  coat,  and  royal  cloak,  all 
of  which  had  been  brought  from  the  monastery  of  St. 
Denis.  The  grand  chamberlain  assisted  in  putting 
on  the  royal  habit  and  sandals  •,  the  Duke  of  Bur- 
gundy buckled  on  the  golden  spurs,  and  again  im- 
mediately removed  them  :  the  archbishop  girt  on  the 
sword,  and  presently  ungirding  it,  drew  it  from  the 
scabbard,  and  delivered  it  into  the  hand  of  the  king, 
addressing  him  in  these  words :  "  Take  the  sword 
which  I  now  present  to  you,  with  the  blessing  of 
Godj  by  which,  with  the  grace  of  the  Holy  Ghosty 
7 


74  BEAUTIES  OF 

may  you  be  able  to  resist  and  repel  all  the  enemies 
and  adversaries  of  the  church,  defend  the  kingdom 
committed  to  you,  and  promote  the  glory  of  God, 
through  Jesus  Christ,  our  Redeemer,  who  reigns 
with  the  Father !"  &c. 

This  was  followed  by  a  suitable  hymn  and  prayer, 
at  the  conclusion  of  which  the  king  took  the  sword, 
and  delivered  it  to  the  custody  of  the  high  constable, 
or,  in  his  absence,  to  any  of  the  barons  whom  he 
had  appointed  for  the  occasion  to  take  charge  of  it, 
and  bear  it  before  him  in  procession  when  he  retired 
from  the  church.  The  archbishop  then  proceeded 
to  the  ceremony  of  unction  and  consecration.  The 
chrism  being  laid  in  the  sacred  patina  on  the  altar, 
he  took  a  little  of  the  holy  oil  out  of  the  phial  of 
Rheims  with  a  golden  twig,  and  reverently  mixed  it 
with  the  chrism.  The  royal  robe  was  loosened  and 
folded  down  off  the  shoulders ;  the  king  kneeled ; 
the  litany  was  read;  the  bishops  offered  up  three 
several  appropriate  prayers ;  and  the  archbishop  then 
pronounced  that  of  the  consecration. 

The  prayer  being  ended,  the  archbishop  took  the 
chrism  mixed  with  the  oil  of  the  sacred  phial,  and 
anointed  the  king  on  the  head,  the  breast,  the  back, 
the  shoulders,  and  arms,  saying  at  each,  "  I  anoint 
thee  with  the  holy  oil,  in  the  name  of  the  Father, 
Son,  and  Holy  Ghost."  These  actions  were  followed 
by  a  hymn  and  prayers. 

The  royal  robe  was  now  replaced  and  fastened 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  75 

with  a  clasp,  and  a  ring  put  on  the  king's  finger  by 
the  archbishop,  who  said,  "Receive  this  ring,  the 
symbol  of  faith,  power,  union,  and  happiness ;  the 
pledge  of  your  fidelity  in  defending  the  church  and 
subduing  her  enemies."  The  sceptre  was  next  placed 
in  his  right  hand,  and  the  rod  of  justice  in  his  left, 
accompanied  by  suitable  addresses.  The  high  chan- 
cellor then,  or  in  his  absence  the  archbishop,  called  by 
name,  first  the  lay  and  next  the  ecclesiastical  peers, 
who,  standing  around  the  royal  person,  assisted  the 
archbishop  in  placing  the  crown  on  his  head,  and 
continued  to  support  it,  while  the  prelate  repeated, 
"  May  God  crown  you  with  glory,  honour,  righteous- 
ness and  constancy,  that  through  our  prayers,  a  sound 
faith,  and  its  fruits  abounding  in  good  works,  you 
may  obtain  the  inheritance  of  an  everlasting  king- 
dom !"  This  was  again  followed  by  three  prayers, 
an  address,  and  a  concluding  prayer,  on  the  king's 
being  conducted  by  the  peers  to  a  throne  prepared 
for  his  reception. 

The  archbishop  then,  having  laid  aside  his  mitre, 
saluted  him,  and  proclaimed,  "  Long  live  the  king !" 
The  peers  each  did  the  same,  and  the  words  resounded 
through  the  assembly.  The  book  of  the  Gospel  was 
presented  to  him,  which  he  kissed;  high  mass  was 
performed,  and  he  received  the  sacrament;  an  offer- 
ing was  made  by  him  of  a  vessel  of  wine  and  three 
pieces  of  gold;  the  Gospel  was  recited  while  the 
crown  was  laid  aside,  and  the  king  descended  from 


76  BEAUTIES  OP 

the  throne ;  a  smaller  crown  was  put  on  his  head, 
and,  the  constable  bearing  the  sword  before  him,  the 
procession  returned  to  the  palace. 

CHARLES  THE  FIFTH, 

Succeeded  his  father  John ;  he  was  almost  the  first 
king  in  Europe  who  did  not  think  it  incumbent  upon 
him  to  appear  personally  at  the  head  of  his  armies, 
or  to  hazard  his  person  equally  with  the  lowest 
soldier.  He  hoped  to  effect  more  by  foresight,  policy, 
and  judgment,  than  his  predecessors  had  done  by  the 
strength  of  their  arms,  or  the  force  of  their  valour ; 
and  he  was  in  a  great  measure  successful.  "No 
king,"  said  Edward,  his  great  antagonist,  "  ever  less 
handled  his  sword ;  and  none  ever  occasioned  to  his 
adversaries  so  much  embarrassment."* 

*  In  this  reign  the  whims  of  the  court  became  matters  of  greai 
•weight  and  importance;  among  others  were  introduced  the 
fashionable  shoes,  called  after  the  name  of  the  inventor  a  la 
Poulaine.  They  were  turned  up  before  with  a  long  point  pro- 
portioned to  the  person's  rank,  from  half  a  foot  to  a  foot,  and 
even  two  feet  long,  somewhat  resembling  a  cow's  horn,  and 
were  actually  tipped  with  horn;  they  were  also  sometimes 
branched  ;  and  the  more  ridiculous  they  appeared,  the  more 
stylish  were  they,  as  usual,  considered.  The  clergy  declaimed 
against  this  fashion  as  unnatural  and  disgraceful ;  and  it  was 
the  subject  of  a  grave  discussion  before  two  ecclesiastical 
councils  of  Paris,  in  1312,  and  Antwerp,  in  1365 ;  by  both  of 
which  it  was  condemned  ;  but  it  was  not  abolished  till  the  civil 
government  prohibited  it,  in  1369,  by  a  fine  of  ten  florins  for 
every  transgression.  ^ 


FRENCH  HISTORT.  77 

In  a  battle  between  the  French  and  Normans,  in 
1304,  the  French  army  was  commanded  by  Bertrand 
du  Guesclin,  one  of  the  best  and  bravest  knights  of 
France,  The  Norman  Captal  de  Buch,  also  pos- 
sessed a  high  reputation.  They  met  near  Cocherel, 
on  the  banks  of  the  Eure.  The  Captal  placed  his 
standard  on  a  thorn-bush,  in  front  of  his  army,  as 
a  challenge  to  provoke  his  adversary  to  begin. 
Neither  party,  however,  was  willing  to  quit  the  post 
that  each  advantageously  occupied.  At  length  Du 
Guesclin  feigned  a  retreat ;  when  a  valiant  Norman 
officer,  John  Jouel,  impatient  for  the  fight,  exclaimed, 
"  Quick,  quick,  let  us  descend ;  the  French  are 
flying !"  The  Captal  cautioned  him,  but  the  impe- 
tuous soldier  called  aloud,.  "  follow  me  who  loves 
me  ;  I  am  determined  to  fight !"  and  so  ran  on  with 
a  body  of  troops  after  him.  As  soon  as  they  had 
left  their  trenches,  the  French  rapidly  formed  and 
charged  them ;  Jouel  saw  his  error,  but  fought  bravely ; 
many  fell,  and  many  were  disarmed  and  taken.  The 
standard  of  De  Buch,  which  had  been  so  vauntingly 
displayed,  became  the  main  object  of  attack  and  de- 
fence. Thirty  valiant  knights  resolved  to  seize  it ; 
and  as  many  on  the  other  side  swore  it  should  be 
preserved.  The  French,  after  a  bloody  and  obstinate 
struggle,  succeeded.  Jouel,  who  was  the  cause  of 
the  failure  of  his  party,  disdained  to  flee;  he  was 
covered  with  wounds  from  head  to  foot ;  yet  stood 
and  fought  till  he  fell  dead.  De  Buch  pausing  in 
7* 


78  BEAUTIES  OF 

the  midst  of  the  straggle,  looked  round  and  beh«Id 
all  his  friends  either  slaughtered  or  captured,  asked 
for  Du  Guesclin,  and  yielded  himself  prisoner. 

Charles  the  Fifth,  whose  uniform  and  systematic 
conduct  as  a  politician  and  a  sovereign  in  a  ferocious 
age,  procured  him  the  epithet  of  "  the  Wise,"  died 
in  1380,  and  left  the  throne  to  his  son, 

CHARLES  THE  SIXTH. 

In  the  year  1392  this  king  betrayed  symptoms  of 
insanity,  and  during  a  march  at  the  head  of  his  army, 
for  the  purpose  of  bringing  the  duke  of  Brittany  under 
subjection,  the  dreadful  malady  broke  forth.  He  was 
riding  through  the  forest  of  Mans,  when  a  tall,  half- 
naked  man,  black  and  hideous,  rushed  from  among 
the  trees,  rudely  seized  the  bridle  of  his  horse,  and 
exclaimed — "  King,  ride  no  farther,  but  return  ;  yon 
are  betrayed!" — then  instantly  disappeared.  The 
king,  in  dreadful  alarm,  passed  on.  Two  pages  rode 
behind  him ;  the  one  bore  a  polished  helmet,  the 
other  a  spear.  The  latter  having  become  sleepy  by 
the  heat  of  the  day,  let  fall  his  weapon,  which  struck 
against  the  steel  helmet  of  his  comrade.  Charles, 
who  was  brooding  over  the  Avarning  of  the  strange 
figure,  was  totally  unhinged  by  the  sudden  noise  near 
him,  and  supposing  it  to  be  the  attack  of  his  enemy, 
turned,  drew  his  sword,  put  spurs  to  his  horse,  and 
furiously  assaulted  all  who  came  in  his  way :  several 
were  killed  and  wounded ;  but  at  length  a  Norman 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  79 

knight  sprang  up  behind  the  king,  pinioned  him,  and 
kept  him  thus  until  he  was  disarmed.  They  laid 
him  on  the  ground,  perfectly  exhausted  and  speech- 
less. 

In  the  year  1415,  Henry  the  Fifth  of  England  in- 
vaded France,  at  the  head  of  a  numerous  and  brave 
army,  and  on  the  25th  of  October  the  battle  of  Agin- 
court  was  fought.  The  French,  who  were  vastly 
superior  in  numbers,  commenced  the  attack;  their 
archers  on  horseback,  and  their  men  at  arms,  advan- 
ced upon  the  archers  of  England,  who  had  fixed  pali- 
sades in  their  front  to  break  the  assault  of  the  enemy, 
and  from  behind  that  defence  plied  their  foes  with  a 
shower  of  arrows  which  nothing  could  resist.  The 
whole  French  army  shortly  exliibited  a  scene  of  con- 
fusion and  dismay ;  and  the  English  fell  upon  them 
with  their  battle-axes,  and  hewed  them  to  pieces  al- 
most without  resistance.  The  mass  of  prisoners  was 
so  great  as  to  encumber  the  victors;  and  an  alarm 
being  spread  that  they  were  attacked  in  the  rear, 
Henry  gave  orders  that  all  the  captives  should  be  put 
to  death.  The  mistake  was  soon  discovered,  and 
the  mandate  countermanded  ;  but  unhappily  it  added 
many  to  the  number  of  the  slain.  The  French  lost 
10,000  killed  and  14,000  prisoners ;  among  the  former 
were  their  commanders,  the  Dukes  of  Brabant  and 
Alengon,  and  a  host  of  nobles  and  knights.  The  loss 
of  the  English  was  not  great ;  and  has  been  variously 
estimated  at  from  forty  persons  to  one  thousand  six 


80  BEAUTIES  OF 

hundred :  the  Duke  of  York  was  the  only  man  of 
rank  who  fell.  In  consequence  of  this  victory  the 
English  obtained  and  held  possession  of  many  im- 
portant towns  and  fortresses  in  France. 

In  1422,  Charles  the  Sixth  died,  and  the  kingdom 
was  inherited  by  his  son, 

CHARLES  THE  SEVENTH, 

Surnamed  "  the  Victorious."  During  the  first  six 
years  of  his  reign  the  English  arms  in  France  were 
almost  imiformly  successful ;  and  the  young  king  was 
reduced  almost  to  a  state  of  penury.  Nor  was  he 
previously  very  fortunate,  for  shortly  before  he  ob- 
tained the  crown,  he  had  been  forced  to  supply  his 
table  even  by  the  sale  of  his  wife's  jewels.  His  little 
court  was  torn  by  intestine  factions ;  the  English, 
under  the  command  of  John,  Duke  of  Bedford,  uncle 
to  Henry  the  Sixth,  were  proceeding  to  lay  siege  to 
Orleans;  and  the  ruin  of  Charles  appeared  inevitable, 
when  an  occurrence,  the  most  singular  in  the  records 
of  history,  turned  the  scale  in  his  favour,  and  restored 
him  in  power  to  the  throne  of  his  ancestors. 

The  fortitude,  courage,  perseverance,  and  cruel 
death  of  the  Maid  of  Orleans  form  one  of  the  most 
romantic  and  interesting  portions  of  French  history ; 
her  spirit  and  good  fortune  may  with  propriety  be 
called  marvellous ;  since,  informed  as  we  happily 
are,  we  cannot  deem  it,  as  in  her  own  time  it  was 
universally  deemed,  miraculous.   Joan  d'Arc  a  native 


FRENCH  HISTORY. 


81 


of  Droimy,  near  Vaucouleurs,  on  the  Meuse,  was  a 
country-girl  somewhat  above  twenty  years  of  age, 
handsome  and  lively,  and  of  irreproachable  conduct. 
She  had  been  early  accustomed  to  the  management 
of  horses,  and  rode  with  grace  and  ease,  having  filled 
the  humble  situation  of  maid  in  the  inn  of  her  native 
village ;  where  she  had  frequent  opportunities  of  hear- 
ing discussed  the  calamities  and  misery  the  lower  or- 
ders were  suffering,  the  deplorable  state  of  the  coun- 
try, and  the  peculiar  character  of  Charles — one  so 
strongly  inclined  to  friendship  and  affection — which 
naturally  rendered  him  the  hero  of  that  sex  whose 
generous  minds  place  little  bounds  to  their  enthu- 
siasm. These  discussions  warmed  the  maiden's  ima- 
gination, rendered  her  indignant  against  the  English, 
and  inspired  her  with  the  noble  resolution  of  delivering 
her  country  from  its  enemies. 

She  went  therefore  to  Vaucouleurs,  obtained  ad- 
mittance to  Baudricourt,  the  governor,  and  assured 
him  that  she  had  seen  visions,  and  heard  voices  ex- 
horting her  to  re-establish  the  throne  of  France.  An 
uncommon  intrepidity  of  soul  made  her  overlook  all 
the  dangers  which  might  attend  her  in  such  a  design ; 
and  the  village-girl  burst  forth  at  once  into  the  fear- 
less heroine.  Doubtless  her  inexperienced  mind  mis- 
took the  impulses  of  passion  for  heavenly  inspiration, 
for  no  one  act  of  Joan  d'Arc  leads  to  the  belief  that 
she  ever  contemplated  imposition.  The  governor  of 
Vaucouleurs  treated  her  at  first  with  neglect ;  but  after 


82  BEAUTIES  OF 

a  time,  wisely  considering  that  in  the  present  state 
of  affairs,  advantage  might  be  taken  of  her  enthusiasm, 
he  entered  into  her  views,  and  sent  her,  with  proper 
attendants  and  a  recommendation  to  the  king,  who 
was  then  residing  at  Chinon.  . 

The  age  was  one  of  almost  unbounded  credulity, 
and  it  was  the  interest  of  the  king  and  his  friends, 
when  accepting  her  services,  to  persuade  the  people 
she  was  sent  by  God.  She  resided  two  months  at 
Chinon,  and  the  priesthood  confirmed  the  rumor  of 
her  being  an  inspired  person.  It  is  but  fair  to  suppose 
that  all  were  disposed  to  believe  what  they  so  ardent- 
ly wished.  Joan,  armed  cap-a-pee,  and  mounted  on 
horseback,  was  triumphantly  presented  to  the  people 
as  the  messenger  of  Heaven,  and  began  her  martial 
transactions  by  escorting  a  large  convoy  for  the  sup- 
ply of  Orleans,  as  the  English  were  then  besieging 
that  city.  She  ordered  the  soldiers  to  confess  them- 
selves before  they  set  out  on  their  enterprise ;  banished 
from  the  camp  all  dissolute  characters  ;  and  carried  in 
her  own  hand  a  consecrated  banner,  on  which  the 
Supreme  Being  was  represented  grasping  the  globe 
of  earth,  and  surrounded  with.  Jleurs-de-lis.  The  maid 
wrote  to  the  commanders  of  the  English  troops  desir- 
ing them,  in  the  name  of  the  Omnipotent  Creator,  to 
raise  the  siege  and  evacuate  France,  and  menaced  them 
with  divine  vengeance  in  case  of  their  disobedience. 
The  English  affected  to  deride  her  and  her  heavenly 
commission,  but  their  imaginations  were  secretly  af- 


FRENCH  HISTORT.  83 

fected  by  the  strong  feeling  that  prevailed  in  all  around 
them ;  and  they  waited  with  anxious  expectation  for 
the  issue  of  these  extraordinary  proceedings.  Strange 
it  was,  but  no  less  true,  that  provisions  were  safely 
and  peaceably  pennitted  to  enter  the  city ;  and  Joan 
was  received  as  a  celestial  deliverer  by  all  the  inha- 
bitants, who  now  believed  themselves  invincible  under 
her  influence.  An  alteration  of  affairs  was  visible  to 
the  whole  civilized  world,  whose  attention  was  fixed 
upon  the  war  between  two  such  nations;  and  the 
sudden  change  had  a  proportionate  effect  on  the  minds 
of  both  parties.  The  spirit  resulting  from  a  long 
course  of  uninterrupted  good  fortune,  was  rapidly 
transferred  from  the  victors  to  the  vanquished.  The 
Maid  cried  aloud  for  an  immediate  sally  of  the  garrison, 
her  ardour  roused  to  exertion — she  attacked  and  con- 
quered. Nothing,  after  this  success,  seemed  impos- 
sible to  her  votaries  ;  she  declared  that  within  a  little 
time  the  English  would  be  entirely  driven  from  their 
entrenchments,  and  was  herself  foremost  in  the  battle, 
animating  and  exhorting  her  troops.  Nor  was  her 
bravery  more  singular  than  her  presence  of  mind :  in 
one  attack  she  was  wounded  by  an  arrow  in  the  neck; 
she  pulled  the  weapon  out  with  her  own  hands,  had 
the  wound  quickly  dressed,  and  hastened  back  to  head 
the  troops  and  plant  her  victorious  banner  on  the 
ramparts  of  the  adversary.  The  English  no  longer 
denied  that  Joan  was  inspired,  but  they  declared  she 
was  possessed  of  an  evil,  not  a  good  spirit.    Whether 


84  BEAUTIES  OF 

"  TJie  Maid  of  Orleans'''  (an  appellationgiven  to  her 
when  she  had  finally  succeeded  in  obliging  the  Eng- 
lish to  raise  a  siege  upon  which  so  much  money  and 
fio  many  valuable  lives  had  been  expended)  really 
acted  upon  her  own  council  or  upon  that  of  the 
French  general,  Dunois  (as  it  was  said),  she  is  alike 
entitled  to  our  praise  and  admiration ;  for  there  is 
often  as  much  wisdom  shown  in  following,  as  in 
giving  advice.  And  it  must  never  be  forgotten  that, 
when  necessary,  she  curbed  her  visionary  temper  and 
zeal  by  prudence  and  discretion. 

The  Maid  gave  two  promises  to  Charles ;  one  that 
she  would  force  the  invaders  to  raise  the  siege  of  Or- 
leans ;  the  other,  that  she  would  see  him  crowned  at 
Rheims.  The  former  having  been  kept,  the  latter  re- 
mained to  be  fulfilled.  The  king  joined  his  victo- 
rious people,  and,  accompanied  by  her  who  might 
be  truly  termed  his  guardian  angel,  set  out  for  that 
ancient  city.  Such  was  the  universal  panic,  that  he 
hardly  perceived  he  was  marching  through  an  ene- 
my's country.  When  he  arrived  at  Rheims,  he  was 
there  joined  by  the  dukes  of  Lorraine  and  Bar,  and 
next  day,  the  17th  of  July,  1429,  his  coronation  was 
performed  with  the  holy  oil,  to  which  we  have  else- 
where referred,  and  which,  it  was  said,  a  pigeon  had 
brought  to  king  Clovis  from  heaven,  on  the  first  esta- 
blishment of  the  French  monarchy.  The  Maid  of 
Orleans  stood  by  his  side  in  complete  armour,  dis- 
playing that  sacred  banner  with  which  she  had  so 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  85 

often  animated  his  troops  and  dismayed  his  enemies. 
When  the  impressive  ceremony  was  concluded,  she 
threw  herself  at  the  monarch's  feet,  and  shed  a  flood 
of  exulting  and  tender  tears.  "  At  last,"  she  ex- 
claimed, "  my  dear  sovereign,  the  will  of  God  is  ful- 
filled ;  in  this  happy  event  he  hath  shown  that  you 
are  he  to  whom  this  kingdom  doth  indeed  belong." 
It  is  impossible  to  imagine  one  more  devoid  of  per- 
sonal ambition  than  Joan  d'Arc.  It  is  true,  that 
Charles  ennobled  her  family,  and  exempted  her  na- 
tive village  from  taxation ;  but,  having  fulfilled  the 
professed  end  of  her  mission,  she  earnestly  solicited 
the  favour  of  being  permitted  to  return  to  her  home 
and  tranquillity. 

When  the  indelible  stain  made  by  her  death  on  the 
page  of  English  history  is  remembered,  it  will  be 
deeply  regretted  that  Charles  refused  her  request. 
Finding  that  her  services  were  again  required,  she 
threw  herself  into  Compiegne,  then  besieged  by  the 
English,  and  made  many  successful  sallies  against 
the  assailants ;  but  being  deserted  by  her  party  on 
one  occasion,  she  was  pulled  from  her  horse  and 
taken  prisoner  by  one  Lionel  de  Vendome,  an  officer 
of  the  Burgundian  army.  It  is  hardly  to  be  credited, 
that  a  king  whom  she  had  crowned,  a  people  Avhom 
she  had  saved,  should  have  made  no  effort  to  recover 
their  preserver  from  her  bitter  enemies.  Yet  they 
left  the  intrepid  girl  to  the  cruel  vengeance  of  her 
foes ;  and  the  duke  of  Burgundy  purchased,  for  the 
8 


86  BEAUTIES  OF 

sum  of  ten  thousand  pounds  sterling,  the  casket  that 
contained  the  soul  of  Joan  of  Arc.     She  was  carried 
to  Rouen,  loaded  with  irons,  and  summoned  to  ap- 
pear before  a  tribunal  formed  of  persons  interested  in 
her  destruction.    Nothing  could  exceed  the  intrepidi- 
ty of  her  conduct,  or  the  coolness  of  her  replies : 
they  could  not  try  her  as  a  prisoner  of  war ;  and  so, 
for  a  period  of  four  months,  they  harassed  her  with 
religious  interrogatories.   During  the  whole  time,  she 
never  betrayed  any  w^eakness  or  womanish  submis- 
sion, and  no  advantage  was  gained  over  her.     Her 
answers  to  the  various  questions  proposed  to  her  are 
too  long  for  insertion  here,  but  they  must  ever  prove 
highly  interesting  to  the  lovers  of  true  heroism.     In 
the  issue  she  was  found  guilty  of  all  the  crimes  im- 
puted to  her — of  being  a  sorceress,  an  idolater,  a 
witch,  and  a  heretic.     But  the  chief  part  of  her  ac- 
cusation was  wearing  man's  apparel :  and  she  was 
finally  sentenced  to  be. delivered  over  to  the  secular 
arm.     It  was  hardly  to  be  expected  but  that,  sooner 
or  later,  the  weakness  of  the  woman  would  triumph 
over  the  fortitude  of  the  heroine.     Brow-beaten  by 
men  invested  Avith  the  appearance  of  holiness,  her 
spirit  was  subdued ;  the  visionary  dream  of  inspira- 
tion with  which  she  had  been  buoyed  up  by  tlie  ap- 
plause of  her  party,  as  well  as  by  continual  success, 
faded  before  the  punishment  to  which  she  was  con- 
demned.    She  confessed  her  willingness  to  recant, 
acknowledged  the  illusion  of  those  revelations  which 


FRENCH   HISTOnr.  87 

the  church  had  rejected,  and  promised  never  more  to 
mention  them :  her  sentence  was  then,  as  they  termed 
it,  "  mitigated."  She  was  doomed  to  perpetual  im- 
prisonment, and  to  be  fed  during  life  upon  bread  and 
water.  But  the  vengeance  of  the  maiden^s  enemies 
was  not  yet  appeased.  Suspecting  that  the  female 
dress  had  been  rendered  uncomfortable  by  habit,  al- 
though she  had  consented  to  resume  it,  tliey  pur- 
posely placed  in  her  chamber  a  coat  of  armour,  and 
meanly  watched  for  the  effects  of  the  temptation.  At 
the  sight  of  a  dress  in  which  she  had  acquired  so 
much  renown,  and  which  she  had  once  believed  she 
wore  by  the  direct  command  of  Heaven,  all  her 
former  feelings  and  passions  revived,  and  she  ven- 
tured in  her  solitude  to  clothe  herself  again  in  the 
forbidden  steel.  Her  base  and  contemptible  foes  sur- 
prised her  in  that  condition ;  the  slight  offence  was 
interpreted  into  an  heretical  relapse,  and  she  was 
doomed  to  be  publicly  burned  in  the  market-place  of 
Rouen  (June  the  14th,  1431).  "  This  admirable  he- 
roine," says  Hume,  "  to  whom  the  more  generous 
superstition  of  the  ancients  would  have  erected  al- 
tars, was,  on  pretence  of  heresy  and  magic,  delivered 
over  alive  to  the  flames,  and  expiated  by  that  dread- 
ful punishment  the  signal  services  she  had  rendered 
to  her  prince  and  her  native  country."  The  English 
king,  Henry,  was  at  Rouen  at  the  time  of  this  autho- 
rized murder;  and  there  is  still  extant  a  very  curious 
letter  from  him  to  his  uncle,  the  duke  of  Bedford,  on 


bo  BEAUTIES  OP 

the  death  of  Joan,  which  he  terms  the  "  extirpation 
of  a  pestilential  error." 

The  effects  of  her  influence,  however,  was  fel* 
long  after  her  death ;  and  although  by  a  kind  ot 
mock  coronation,  the  young  king  of  England  re- 
ceived the  crown  of  France  at  Rheims,  it  was  mani 
fest  that  the  English  power  was  rapidly  declining  in 
that  country. 

After  the  siege  of  Orleans  had  been  abandoned,  the 
earl  of  Suffolk,  who  was  taken  prisoner  fighting  va- 
liantly, displayed,  even  during  a  moment  of  immi- 
nent peril,  the  chivalrous  spirit  of  the  times.  He  was 
about  to  surrender  himself  to  William  Renaud,  but 
first  asked  him,  "  Are  you  a  gentleman  ?"  "  Yes," 
«  But  are  you  a  knight  .^"  "  No."  "  Then,"  said 
the  earl,  "  I  make  you  one ;"  and  having  dubbed  him 
on  the  field,  retired  in  his  custody. 

In  consequence  of  the  several  victories  that  fol- 
lowed, nearly  all  the  provinces  and  fortresses  gar- 
risoned by  England, yielded  to  the  French;  and  the 
latter  days  of  Charles  the  Seventh  were  passed  in 
prosperity  and  popularity.  He  died  in  1461,  leaving 
behind  him  the  highest  reputation  as  a  prince  of  ac- 
knowledged courage,  justice,  and  discretion,  and  well 
deserving  the  success  that  had  attended  his  arms; 
though  it  must  be  admitted,  that  the  manner  in  which 
he  left  his  deliverer,  Joan  d'Arc,  to  her  fate,  without 
attempting  to  save  her,  tarnishes,  in  some  measure, 
the  splendour  of  his  reign.     His  son. 


FRENCH    HISTORY.  89 

LOUIS  THE  ELEVENTH, 

Succeeded  his  father,  but  he  inherited  none  of  his 
father's  virtues.  He  was  thirty-eight  years  of  age 
when  he  came  to  the  throne :  mean,  selfish,  regard- 
less of  truth,  and  fawning  to  tliose  who  were  neces- 
sary to  him ;  but  negligent  of  those  of  whom  he 
considered  himself  independent;  yet  possessing  an 
insinuating  address  and  great  perseverance  in  attain- 
ing his  object.  When  he  gave  offence  by  his  words 
in  conversation,  he  was  ever  ready  to  apologise.  "  I 
am  sensible,"  he  would  say,  "  that  my  tongue  is  of- 
ten prejudicial  to  my  interests."  Still,  no  man  ever 
had  his  speech  or  his  temper  more  completely  under 
control.*  He  is  described  by  the  historian  as  "  uni- 
formly flagitious,  and  systematically  bad." 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  events  of  the  early 
years  of  his  reign,  was  his  voluntarily  placing  him- 
self in  the  hands  of  his  mortal  enemy,  Charles,  duke 
of  Burgundy,  thinking  to  overreach  that  prince  by  his 
powers  of  persuasion ;  but  he  suffered  as  the  dupe  of 
his  vanity,  and  was  confined  a  prisoner  in  the  castle 
of  Peronne,  in  Picardy.  Comines,  the  historian  of 
his  time,  describes  minutely  every  circumstance  con- 
nected with  the  extraordinary  meeting  of  the  rival 

*  The  character  of  this  king,  and  portions  of  the  history  of 
his  reign,  have  been  made  familiar  to  the  English  reader,  by 
the  Author  of  "  Waverley,"  in  his  historical  novel  of  "  Quen- 
tin  Durward." 

8* 


90  BEAUTIES  OP 

potentates,  and  the  subsequent  imprisonment  of  the 
khig.  He  does  not  assert,  that  Charles  had  it  in  con- 
templation to  put  his  royal  prisoner  to  death ;  but  he 
insinuates,  that  the  king's  terror  of  such  an  event  was 
not  without  some  foundation.  The  duke  kept  him 
three  days  in  painful  suspense ;  but  at  length  he  was 
released,  under  conditions  the  most  ignominious  and 
humiliating, 

Charles  was  afterwards  foully  and  treacherously 
murdered  by  Campo-basso,  a  Neapolitan,  on  whom 
he  had  conferred  many  favours.  While  besieging 
Nancy,  in  Lorraine,  the  Italian  deserted,  leaving 
twelve  of  his  soldiers  with  orders  to  assassinate  the 
duke.  They  executed  the  detestable  commission  too 
faithfully.  It  is  said,  that  Campo-basso  had  previous- 
ly offered  to  deliver  up  his  master,  alive  or  dead,  to 
Louis ;  but  that  even  Louis  abhorred  so  black  a 
treachery,  and  sent  intimation  of  it  to  Charles ;  though 
the  infamous  opinion  the  duke  entertained  of  Louis, 
induced  him  to  neglect  or  despise  the  information. 
"  If,"  said  he,  "  it  were  true,  the  king  Avould  never 
have  imparted  to  me  so  important  a  secret ;"  and  he 
even  redoubled  his  marks  of  confidence  towards  the 
perfidious  Neapolitan. 

When  Louis  drew  near  his  last  moments — hastened 
by  three  successive  strokes  of  apoplexy — he  present- 
ed one  of  the  most  awful  pictures  that  the  imagina- 
tion can  conceive.  The  cruel  are  always  coAvards ; 
and  the  king  shrunk  with  the  natural  terror  of  a  base 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  91 

and  wicked  mind  from  the  idea  of  death.  He  ex- 
hausted every  power  of  medicine,  devotion,  artifice, 
to  prolong  his  miserable  existence.  It  has  even  been 
said,  that  a  bath  of  infants'  blood  was  prepared  for 
him,  in  the  hope  that  it  would  cure  the  disease  under 
which  he  laboured.  At  length,  it  was  considered  ne- 
cessary to  inform  him  that  his  end  was  rapidly  ap- 
proaching ;  but  as  he  had  often  warned  his  officers 
never  to  pronounce  to  him  the  fatal  word — death, — 
there  was  none  willing  to  communicate  the  tidings, 
until  his  strength  had  failed  him;  and  the  fearful  sen- 
tence was  heard  only  when  at  his  last  gasp. 

He  had  been  long  separated  from  his  queen,  an 
excellent,  though  not  beautiful  woman;  but,  what 
was  of  far  higher  importance  in  such  a  state  of  so- 
ciety, she  protected  and  aided  the  dissemination  of 
literature  in  France.  A  characteristic  anecdote  is  re- 
lated of  her  : — Passing  accidentally  through  an  apart- 
ment where  Alain  Chartier,  the  most  brilliant  genius, 
but  the  ugliest  man  of  his  age,  lay  asleep,  she  went 
up  to  him,  and  kissed  him.  Her  ladies  reproached 
her  by  their  looks  for  this  seeming  violation  of  female 
modesty.  "  It  was  not  the  man,"  said  she,  "  whom 
I  kissed,  but  the  mouth  whence  have  proceeded  so 
many  elevated  sentiments." 

It  is  asserted  that  the  physician  of  Louis,  James 
Coctier,  treated  his  master  with  great  insolence,  and 
extorted  from  him  immense  sums  of  money.  But  he 
owed  his  life  to  Louis's  superstition ;  for  he  informed 


92  BEAUTIES  OF 

him,  that  the  existence  of  the  king  must  inevitably 
terminate  within  eight  days  of  the  death  of  his  phy- 
sician. 

Louis  died  a.  d.  1483,  and  the  crown  descended 
to  his  son, 

CHARLES  THE  EIGHTH. 

The  character  of  this  king  is  given  in  a  few  words 
by  the  historian  Comines  : — "  He  was  the  most  affable 
and  sweetest-natured  prince  in  the  world.  I  verily 
believe  he  never  said  a  word  to  any  man  that  could 
in  reason  displease  him."  He  died  of  apoplexy  in 
1498,  and  with  him  ended  the  direct  line  of  Valois; 
Louis  duke  of  Orleans,  who  succeeded  him  in  the 
throne,  being  of  a  collateral  branch. 

LOUIS  THE  TWELFTH, 

Almost  immediately  after  his  coronation,  gave  a  proof 
of  temperance  and  generosity.  When  advised  by 
his  courtiers  to  punish  those  who  had  been  his  ene- 
mies during  the  preceding  reign,  he  made  this  glo- 
rious reply,  "  It  becomes  not  a  King  of  France  to 
revenge  the  quarrels  of  a  duke  of  Orleans. 

Louis  engaged  in  a  protracted  and  unprofitable  war 
with  Pope  Julius  the  Second.  Jn  this  contest,  a 
young  hero,  whose  renown  has  descended  to  pos- 
terity, and  formed  the  tlieme  of  many  a  poet's  lay 
and  romantic  story,  first  made  his  appearance. 
Gaston  de  Foix  was  nephew  to  the  king,  and  was 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  93 

scarcely  in  his  twenty-third  year.  The  Italians  re- 
garded him  as  a  prodigy,  and  he  was  surnamed  "  the 
Thunderbolt  of  Italy,"  from  the  intrepidity  of  his 
exploits,  the  rapidity  of  his  progress,  and  the  sudden- 
ness of  his  extinction. 

At  the  battle  of  Ravenna  he  exerted  all  the  qualities 
of  an  experienced  and  consummate  general  •,  yet,  like 
a  young  soldier,  threw  away  his  life  at  the  moment 
of  victory.     The  action  had  been  completely  gained, 
when  the  celebrated  Chevalier  Bayard,  seeing  Gaston 
de  Foix  covered  with  blood,  rode  up,  and  asked  if 
he  was  wounded  ?"     No,"  he  replied,  "  but  I  have 
wounded  many  of  the  enemy."     Bayard  implored 
him  on  no  consideration  to  quit  the  main  body  of  the 
army.     This  wholesome  advice  was  unhappily  ne- 
glected.    A  Gascon  runaway  having  informed  him, 
that  a  party  of  the  enemy  not  only  maintained  their 
ground,  but  were  gaining  some  advantage,  he  called 
out,  "Who  loves  me,  follows  me,"  and  instantly 
charged  them.     They  were,  however,  a  body  of  ve- 
terans, who,  lowering  their  pikes,  coolly  received  the 
attack.     Gaston's  horse  was  first  killed,  and  himself 
overborne  by  numbers :  he  was  bravely  defended  by 
his  relative,  Lautrec,  who,  when  no  longer  able  to 
ward  off  the  blows  aimed  at  him,  eagerly  exclaimed, 
«  Spare  him,  spare  him,  and  you  shall  have  immense 
ransom."     The  appeal  was  made  in  vain;  the  prince 
fell,  covered  with  wounds ;  and  the  gallant  Bayard 
was  almost  driven  to  madness,  when  riding  up,  he 


94  BEAUTIES  OP 

found  the  young  hero  dead  upon  the  field  that  had 
been  won  by  his  skill  and  courage. 

In  1514,  Louis  the  Twelfth  was  married  to  the 
Princess  Mary,  sister  to  Henry  the  Eighth  of  Eng- 
land, a  lady  of  exceeding  beauty.  But  the  marriage 
was  one  of  mere  state  policy,  for  Louis  was  in  the 
decline  of  life,  and  Mary  had  already  bestowed  her 
affections  on  Charles  Brandon,  Duke  of  Suffolk,  Avho 
had  been  previously  selected  by  Henry  as  his  sister's 
husband.  After  the  death  of  Louis,  she  became  the 
wife  of  the  duke,  and  was  called  the  queen-duchess. 

Louis  died  on  the  1st  January,  1515.  He  was  the 
most  virtuous  prince  that  had  ever  governed  France. 
It  was  proclaimed  in  the  hall  of  the  palace,  at  his 
death,  "  Le  bon  Roi  Louis  douze,  pere  du  peuple,  est 
mort."  The  title  was  deserved.  In  him  expired  the 
elder  branch  of  the  House  of  Orleans,  and  that  of 
Angouleme  succeeded  to  the  throne. 


FRANCIS   THE  FIRST 

Was  but  twenty-one  years  of  age  when  he  becanae 
king  of  France.  Nature  had  endowed  him  with  the 
rarest  and  most  estimable  qualities  of  mind  and  per- 
son ;  very  handsome,  well  formed,  active  and  expert 
in  all  the  military  as  well  as  elegant  exercises  suited 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  95 

to  his  age  and  rank,  courleoiis  in  his  manners,  boun- 
teous even  to  prodigality,  eloquent  in  the  cabinet, 
brave  and  skilful  in  the  field — he  seemed  formed  to 
be  the  monarch  of  a  great  kingdom,  and  to  rule  over 
the  hearts  as  well  as  the  persons  of  his  subjects. 

His  first  battle  was  fought  against  the  Milanese. 
Francis  showed  the  greatest  intrepidity :  when  it  was 
terminated,  he  laid  himself  down  upon  the  carriage 
of  a  piece  of  artillery,  and,  like  Darius  after  the  com- 
bat of  Arbela,  is  said  to  have  drank  with  avidity  a 
little  water  mixed  with  blood  and  dirt,  brought  to 
him  in  a  helmet  by  one  of  his  soldiers.  The  day 
was  won  by  the  French,  after  a  tremendous  struggle. 
A  mareschal,  who  had  been  present  at  seventeen  en- 
gagements, thus  described  it — "  this  is  a  contest  of 
giants,  but  all  the  others  were  only  children's  play." 
When  night  separated  the  combatants,  the  king,  sur- 
rounded by  a  few  of  his  officers,  lay  down  to  sleep: 
presently  he  received  information  that  they  were  only 
fifty  paces  from  a  large  body  of  the  enemy ;  and  that 
if  discovered,  they  must  inevitably  be  made  prisoners. 
Uncertain  in  what  way  to  proceed,  the  solitary  torch 
was  instantly  extinguished,  and  Francis  remained 
anxiously  watching  the  first  dawn  of  morn,  which 
brought  relief  to  the  party  by  enabling  them  to  join 
their  companions  in  arms. 

The  year  1520  was  distinguished  by  the  meeting 
of  Francis  and  Henry  the  Eighth  of  England,  at  a 
point  situated  between  the  towns  of  Guisnes  and  Ar- 


96  BEAUTIES  OF 

dres.  «r/ie  Field  of  the  Cloth  of  GoU;^  (as  it  was 
named  from  the  extraordinary  splendour  by  which  it 
was  distinguished,  even  at  that  period  of  luxury  and 
display,)  has  formed  a  theme  not  unworthy  of  the 
pen  of  the  historian,  and  a  cherished  subject  for  the 
poet  and  novelist.  Francis,  attended  by  the  rank, 
beauty,  and  talent,  that  rendered  his  court  the  most 
refined  of  all  his  contemporaries,  repaired  to  the 
town  of  Ardres ;  while  Henry  proceeded  from  Calais, 
with  his  queen  and  splendid  retinue,  to  the  frontier 
town  of  Guisnes.  The  field  in  which  the  rival  but 
friendly  monarchs  first  met  was  within  the  English 
pale ;  Francis,  with  his  usual  generosity,  having  paid 
this  compliment  to  the  British  king,  in  consideration 
of  his  having  crossed  the  sea  to  grace  the  ceremony 
by  his  presence.  It  has  been  said  by  some  histori- 
ans, that  the  ambitious  Cardinal  Wolsey,  as  conduc- 
tor of  these  august  ceremonies,  contrived  this  matter 
to  do  honour  to  his  master.  Others  affirm,  that  it 
was  proposed,  in  the  first  instance,  by  the  French 
king  himself.  ^ 

The  two  monarchs  received  each  other  with  much 
pomp,  and  many  demonstrations  of  kindly  feeling ; 
and  retired  into  a  tent,  prepared  for  their  reception  in 
the  most  costly  manner,  to  a  secret  conference,  where 
Henry  proposed  to  amend  the  articles  of  their  former 
alliance.  As  a  preliminary,  he  commenced  reading 
the  treaty,  the  first  words  of  which  were — "/,  Henry, 
king;''''  he  paused  a  moment,  and  subjoined  only  the 


FRENCH   HISTORY.  97 

words  of  England,  without  adding  France,  the  cus- 
tomary title  then  adopted  by  the  English  monarchs. 
The  propriety,  courtesy,  and  delicacy  of  Henry  was 
never  forgotten  by  Francis.  Nor  was  this  generous 
king  slow  in  returning  the  compliment ;  full  of  ho- 
nour, incapable  of  jealousy  or  mistrust,  he  was  natu- 
rally shocked  at  the  precautions  observed  whenever 
a  meeting  took  place  between  Henry  and  himself. 
The  reckoning  of  guards  and  attendants  on  either 
side — the  precision  with  which  (in  compliance  with 
etiquette)  every  step  was  scrupulously  measured  and 
adjusted — Francis  heartily  disdained ;  for  if  the  kings 
only  designed  to  visit  the  queens,  they  left  their  re- 
spective quarters  at  the  same  time,  which,  we  are  told, 
was  marked  by  the  firing  of  a  culverin — passed  each 
other  in  the  middle  point  between  the  towns,  and 
the  moment  Henry  entered  Ardres,  Francis  placed 
himself  in  English  hands  at  Guisnes.  But  the  French 
monarch  resolved  to  terminate  this  endless  ceremo- 
nial ;  and,  accompanied  by  only  two  gentlemen  and 
his  page,  rode  gallantly  into  Guisnes,  and  cried  aloud 
to  the  astonished  guards,  "  You  are  all  my  prisoners! 
— carry  me  to  your  master."  Henry  was  both  sur- 
prised and  charmed  at  the  sudden  appearance  of  his 
kingly  brother,  and,  according  to  the  fashion  of  the 
times,  cordially  embracing  him,  unclasped  a  pearl 
collar  from  his  throat,  and  begged  him  to  wear  it  for 
his  sake.  Francis  graciously  accepted  the  gift,  on 
condition  that  Henry  should  wear  a  bracelet  which 
9 


98  BEAUTIES  OF 

he  fastened  upon  his  arm,  and  which  was  of  extra- 
ordinary beauty  and  value.  Confidence  was  thus 
fully  established  between  these  magnificent  kings, 
and  they  employed  the  rest  of  their  time  in  tourna- 
ments and  festivals.  A  challenge  had  been  sent  out 
by  the  two  princes  to  each  other's  court,  and  through 
the  chief  cities  of  Europe,  importing,  "  that  Francis 
and  Henry,  with  fourteen  aids,  would  be  ready  in  the 
plains  of  Picardy,  to  answer  all  comers,  that  were 
gentlemen,  at  tilt,  tournament,  and  barriers."  It  was 
a  brilliant  and  a  glowing  scene — and  the  historians 
love  to  dwell  upon  it — imder  the  blue  skies  of  France, 
to  behold  the  tents,  glittering  in  silk  and  gold,  with 
their  floating  banners,  gleaming  in  the  sunny  light — 
to  hear  the  lone  sound  of  the  herald's  trumpet — and 
anon  the  harmony  of  many  hundred  instruments,  pro- 
claim that  the  kings  of  France  and  England  had  en- 
tered the  field  of  peaceful  combat.  Both  sovereigns 
were  gorgeously  apparelled,  and  both  the  most  come- 
ly personages  of  their  age,  as  well  as  the  most  expert 
in  every  military  exercise.  They  carried  off  the  prize 
in  all  arduous  and  dangerous  pastimes,  and  several 
were  overthrown  by  their  vigour  and  dexterity.  La- 
dies of  high  rank  and  surpassing  beauty  were  the 
judges  in  their  feats  of  chivalry,  and  put  an  end  to 
the  rencontres  whenever  they  deemed  it  necessary. 
During  a  period  of  several  days,  the  princes  spent 
their  time  in  these  entertainments,  until  their  depar- 
ture for  their  respective  capitals.     The  interview, 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  99 

however,  had  more  of  show  than  of  substance,  and 
was  productive  of  no  durable  or  sohd  friendship  be- 
tween them — gorgeous  and  chivalric  to  the  extreme,  it 
was  nothing  more.  So  profuse  was  the  expenditure, 
and  so  costly  the  preparations  that  had  been  made,  by 
the  nobles  of  both  England  and  France,  that "  many, 
i  doubt  not,"  says  Du  Belly,  the  historian,  "  carried 
thither  on  their  shoulders  their  castles,  forests,  and 
lands." 

A  singular  accident  befel  Francis  in  January,  1521. 
The  king,  to  amuse  his  leisure  hours,  attacked,  in 
mimic  battle,  with  a  few  gentlemen,  the  house  of  one 
of  his  counts — snowballs  and  similar  missiles  being 
used  by  the  assailants.  A  person  on  the  opposite  side 
unfortunately  threw  a  torch  from  a  balcony,  which 
struck  the  king  on  the  head,  and  wounded  him  so 
severely  that  for  several  days  his  life  was  despaired 
of.  It  became  necessary  to  cut  off  his  hair,  which 
he  would  never  suffer  to  grow  again,  but  introduced 
the  fashion  of  wearing  the  beard  long,  and  the  hair 
short. 

The  unhappy  differences  between  Francis  and 
Charles,  Duke  of  Bourbon,  the  constable  of  France, 
produced  a  destructive  war  between  the  French  mo- 
narch and  the  Emperor  Charles  the  Fifth.  The  duke 
had  unquestionably  been  treated  with  unmerited  se- 
verity by  his  master — and  his  treason  in  joining  the 
emperor  admits  of  some  palliation.  That  monarch 
confided  his  troops  to  the  charge  of  his  new  ally;  those 


100  BEAUTIES  OF 

of  France  were  commanded  by  the  Admiral  Bonnlvet; 
and  under  him  served  the  brave  and  distinguished 
ChevaUer  Bayard.  Tlie  two  armies  met  at  Romag- 
nano,  and  the  admiral  was  beaten  ;  he  placed  himself, 
however,  during  his  retreat,  at  the  head  of  the  rear 
guard,  as  being  the  post  of  honour  and  of  danger;  nor 
did  he  quit  this  station  until  he  received  a  severe 
wound  from  a  musket-ball  in  the  anm.  He  then  called 
to  Bayard,  and  said,  "you  see  that  J  am  in  no  fit  state 
either  to  fight  or  to  command.  Extricate  the  army 
if  it  be  possible ;  I  commit  it  to  your  care."  "  It  is 
too  late,"  replied  Bayard:  "but  no  matter;  my  soul 
is  my  God's,  and  my  life  my  country's."  He  executed 
the  charge  confided  to  him  with  tliat  noble  intrepidity 
which  has  immortalized  his  name;  but  he  fell  in  the 
performance  of  his  duty.  He  has  been  justly  de- 
scribed as  one  of  the  most  heroic  and  elevated  spirits 
that  ever  flourished  in  the  best  ages  of  chivalry. 
Indeed  the  records  of  his  exploits,  his  gallantry,  his 
munificence,  and  his  whole  character,  have  more  the 
air  of  romance  than  of  sober  history.  The  instances 
related  of  his  humanity  and  beneficence,  even  to  his 
enemies,  would  excite  admiration  and  astonishment 
in  any  age,  but  are  almost  incredible  when  we  con- 
sider the  barbarous  manner  in  which  war  was  carried 
on  in  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century.  In  such 
high  esteem  was  he  held  by  Francis,  that  the  king 
requested  to  be  made  a  knight  by  the  hands  of  his 
brave  subject;  and  when  Bayard  would  have  excused 


FRENCH  HISTORT.  101 

himself,  commanded  that  it  should  be  done.  Bayard 
drew  his  sword,  dubbed  him  after  the  usual  form,  and 
having  pronounced  the  words,  "  In  the  name  of  God, 
St.  Michael,  and  St.  George,  I  make  thee  a  knight: 
be  worthy,  brave,  and  loyal ;  and  God  grant  that  you 
may  never  flee  from  your  enemies,"  kissed  the  wea- 
pon, and  devoted  it  as  a  relic  to  the  service  of  religion. 
The  circumstances  of  his  death  have  been  the  subject 
of  historical  eulogium,  and  have  been  immortalized 
by  poets  and  painters.  He  received  a  mortal  wound 
by  a  ball  from  an  arquebuse,  and  immediately  cried 
out,  "Jesus,  mon  Dieu !  je  suis  mort."  He  then  pre- 
pared himself  for  death  with  that  composure  and 
magnanimity  which  characterized  all  his  actions.  He 
held  up  his  sword  before  him  to  supply  the  want  of 
a  crucifix,  confessed  himself  to  his  steward,  as  no 
priest  was  to  be  found,  and  comforted  his  friends 
and  servants  under  the  loss  that  they  were  about  to 
sustain.  The  Duke  of  Bourbon  wept  over  him  like 
a  child.  "  Weep  not  for  me,"  said  the  dying  hero, 
"  weep  not  for  me ;  but  for  yourself.  I  die  in  the 
service  of  my  country  \  you  triumph  in  the  ruin  of 
vours :  and  have  far  greater  cause  to  lament  your 
victory  than  I  my  defeat."  Thus  died  the  Chevalier 
Bayai-d — the  chevalier  sans  peur  et  saris  reproche. 

In  a  subsequent  battle  between  the  Constable  Bour- 
bon and  Francis,  at  Pava,  in  Italy,  the  king  was  taken 
prisoner,  and  his  army  almost  destroyed.     He  is  said 
to  have  slain  several  of  his  opponents  with  his  own 
9* 


102  BEAUTIES  OF 

hands  during  the  engagement;  and  although  covered 
with  wounds,  and  deserted  by  liis  followers,  contin- 
ued to  defend  himself  with  heroic  valour,  until,  com- 
pletely exhausted,  two  Spanish  officers  put  their 
swords  to  his  throat  and  bade  him  surrender.  A 
follower  of  Bourbon  recognized  him,  though  his  face 
was  stained  with  blood  from  a  deep  wound  across 
his  forehead,  and  desired  him  to  yield  himself  to  the 
constable.  Francis  refused  to  deliver  up  his  sword 
to  a  traitor,  but  presented  it  to  the  Viceroy  of  Naples, 
who  arrived  on  the  spot  just  as  his  captors  had  de- 
spoiled him  of  his  armour,  belt,  and  spurs. 

The  old  Mareschal  de  Chabannes,  Avho  had  been 
distinguished  in  every  battle  under  Charles  the  Eighth 
and  Louis  the  Twelfth,  was  made  prisoner  by  Cas- 
taldo,  a  Neapolitan  captain.  As  Castaldo  was  con- 
ducting him  to  a  place  of  safety,  he  was  met  by  Bu- 
zarto,  a  Spanish  officer,  who  judging  by  the  mare- 
schal's  coat  of  mail  that  he  was  a  prize  of  value, 
wished  to  be  associated  with  the  Neapolitan  in  the 
profit  of  his  prisoner's  ransom.  Castaldo  refused; 
when  the  brutal  Spaniard,  with  an  atrocity  un- 
paralleled, shot  the  venerable  mareschal  dead  at 
his  feet. 

Richard  de  la  Pole,  Duke  of  Suffolk,  also  perished 
on  til  is  fatal  day.  He  commanded  the  corps  of  five 
thousand  men  raised  by  the  Duke  of  Gueldres  in 
3515,  and  surnamed  "  the  Black  Bands :"  he  was  suf- 
focated under  a  heap  of  dead  bodies.     Two  other 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  103 

distinguished  commanders  were  slain,  Lescun  Mare- 
schal  de  Foix,  and  the  Admiral  Bonnivet;  the  former 
was  the  declared  and  inveterate  enemy  of  the  latter, 
aUhoiigh  both  fonght  on  the  side  of  France.  When 
conscious  that  he  was  mortally  wounded,  Lescun 
became  furious  with  rage  at  the  idea  that  his  mortal 
foe  must  now  escape  his  wrath ;  and,  only  anxious 
to  punish  him  before  his  o"/n  death,  sought  him  all 
over  the  field  with  the  hope  of  plunging  a  dagger 
into  his  breast:  he  at  leng;:/!  fell  exhausted,  and  was 
made  prisoner  and  carried  into  Pavia,  where  he  died 
in  the  arms  of  a  beau'jlul  countess,  to  whom  he  had 
been  fondly  attached. 

Nothing  can  be  more  heroic  than  the  death  of 
Bonnivet,  to  wiose  fatal  advice  the  loss  of  the  battle 
was  mairdy  attributable.  Seeing  the  fortune  of  the 
day  wa'- jr,  '.nd  the  troops  disposed  to  fly,  he  at- 
tempted >v  ally  them  ;  but,  not  succeeding,  he  raised 
his  visofj  that  he  might  be  universally  known,  and 
rushing  into  the  thickest  of  the  fight,  fell  covered  with 
v.'Ounds.  The  resentment  of  the  constable  subsided 
at  the  sight  of  his  bloody  and  disfigured  remains ; 
he  gazed  upon  them  for  some  time  in  silence,  and 
then  solemnly  said,  "  Ah  malheureux  !  Tu  es  cause 
de  la  ruine  de  la  France ; — et  de  la  mienne,''  he 
added,  after  a  lengthened  pause. 

The  king  communicated  the  result  of  this  struggle 
to  the  queen-mother  in  these  words,  "  Madam,  all  is 
lost  but  our  honour  " 


104  BEAUTIES   OF 

The  French  khig  was  kept  in  captivity  during  a 
period  of  thirteen  months,  the  greater  portion  of  which 
was  spent  in  prison  in  Madrid.  At  the  end  of  this 
time  he  was  released  by  treaty,  his  two  sons  being 
left  as  hostages  for  the  due  performance  of  the  con- 
ditions. ]Vo  sooner  had  he  reached  his  own  domi- 
nions, than  he  mounted  a  Turkish  horse  that  waited 
for  him,  and  galloped,  without  stopping  or  looking 
behind,  to  St.  Jean  de  Luz,  often  waving  his  bonnet 
in  the  air,  and  exclaiming,  "  Je  suis  encore  Roi !" 

In  ]  526,  the  war  between  the  two  great  monarchs, 
Charles  the  Fifth,  Emperor  of  Germany,  and  Francis, 
was  renewed  in  Italy.  The  command  of  the  forces 
of  the  former  was  again  given  to  the  Duke  of  Bour- 
bon, who  formed  the  daring  and  desperate  resolution 
of  marching  to  Rome,  the  Roman  pontiff  having 
sided  with  the  French  king.  This  design  was  car- 
ried into  effect ;  and  although  the  duke  Avas  killed 
by  a  musket-ball  under  the  walls,  his  victorious  army 
(the  command  of  which  devolved  on  the  Prince  of 
Orange)  entered  and  pillaged  that  celebrated  city. 
Pope  Clement  the  Second  was  forced  to  capitulate, 
and  remained  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  the  victors ; 
and  Rome,  abandoned  to  the  rapacity  and  violence 
of  the  conquerors,  became  a  scene  of  carnage  and 
desolation.  The  first  shot  that  was  fired  had  proved 
fatal  to  the  duke  of  Bourbon,  and  was  commonly  at- 
tributed to  a  priest ;  but  Benvenuto  Celluii,  known 
by  his  extraordinary  writings  and  adventures,  lays 


FRENCH  HISl'ORT.  105 

claim  to  the  merit  of  the  deed.  The  duke's  death 
was  not  known  until  his  troops  had  obtained  pos- 
session of  the  city.  No  language  can  express  the 
fury  of  the  soldiers  when  they  received  the  intelli- 
gence. They  rent  the  air  with  cries  of  "  Came, 
carne!  Sangre,  sangre !  Bourbon,  Bourbon!"  and 
every  sentiment  of  mercy  was  extinguished  in  their 
breasts.  The  pillage  lasted  without  interruption  for 
two  months ;  during  which  every  crime  of  whicli 
man  is  capable  was  committed.  The  details  are  too 
horrible  for  insertion. 

Francis  the  First  died  of  a  slow  fever,  on  the  31st 
of  March,  1547,  in  the  fifty-third  year  of  his  age, 
and  the  thirty-third  of  his  reign.  The  proclamation 
ill  the  hall  of  the  palace,  which  announced  his  death, 
vv'as  in  these  words  :  "  Prince,  clement  en  paix,  vic- 
torieux  en  guerre,  pere  et  restaurateur  des  bonnes 
lettres  et  des  arts  liberaux."  His  devotion  to  gal- 
lantry is  well  known.  "A  court  without  ladies," 
he  would  frequently  say,  "  is  a  year  without  spring ; 
a  spring  without  roses." 

Francis,  however,  urged  by  the  clergy,  who  were 
apprehensive  lest  he  should  absolutely  join  the  Pro- 
testants, and  being  desirous,  on  this  account,  to  sig- 
nalize his  zeal,  and  to  assure  them  of  the  contrary, 
appears  to  have  entered  into  their  views  with  more 
than  his  usual  ardour,  for  some  years  before  his 
death.  In  order  to  excite  general  attention,  and  to 
revive  the  veneration  accustomed  to  be  paid  to  the 


106  BEAUTIES  OP 

ceremonies  of  the  church  generally,  and  to  the  mass 
and  the  host  particularly,  which  was  evidently  de- 
clining, he  ordained  a  solemn  procession  in  Paris, 
January,  1535 ;  in  which  he  walked  barefooted  and 
with  uncovered  head,  carrying  a  torch  in  his  hand, 
and  followed  by  his  children,  the  princes  of  the 
blood,  and  all  his  courtiers.  At  the  conclusion  he 
delivered  a  discourse  to  as  many  as  could  hear  him, 
against  the  reformed  doctrines,  exhorted  all  to  be- 
ware of  them,  and  held  out  encouragement  to  such 
as  would  give  information  against  Reformers,  de- 
claring that  if  one  of  his  children,  or  his  own  right 
hand,  were  infected,  he  would  not  hesitate  about  its 
destruction. 

Bude  was  the  chief  cause  of  the  revival  of  litera- 
ture under  Francis  the  First ;  this  must  be  considered 
as  no  slight  honour :  his  wife  was  of  great  use  to 
him  in  his  literary  pursuits,  and  used  to  find  out  and 
mark  down  the  various  passages  suitable  to  his  pur- 
pose. One  day  his  servant  came  running  to  him  in 
a  great  fright,  crying  out — "  Sir,  Sir,  the  house  is  on 
fire  !"  "  Why  do  you  not  inform  your  mistress  of 
it  ?"  replied  Bude,  calmly ;  "  you  know  I  never 
trouble  myself  about  the  house."* 

HENRY  THE   SECOND, 

Son  of  Francis,  succeeded  to  the  throne  of  France. 

*  As  this  anecdote  is  related  of  several  other  persons,  it  may 
be  well  to  state  that  it  is  extracted  from  a  rare  book  in  the  king's 
library,  at  the  British  Museum. 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  107 

He  was  the  handsomest  prince  of  the  ago,  and  one 
of  tlie  best  caA'aliers  in  Europe;  courteous,  beneficent, 
and  humane,  his  intentions  were  ever  honourable, 
but  his  judgment  was  not  always  right.  He  pos- 
sessed neither  the  capacity  nor  discernment  of  his 
father,  and  was  in  great  measure  under  the  influence 
and  guidance  of  unworthy  favourites.  The  treasures 
amassed  during  the  latter  years  of  the  reign  of  Fran- 
cis, were  dissipated  in  wanton  extravagance  by  his 
successor. 

Henry,  on  his  return  from  a  visit  he  made,  soon 
after  his  accession,  to  the  frontier  of  Picardy,  not 
only  permitted,  but  was  present  with  all  his  court, 
at  the  celebrated  duel  between  Guy  de  Chabat-Jarnac 
and  Francis  de  Vivonne  la  Chataignerie^  which  was 
fought  with  all  the  forms  of  chivalry,  at  St.  Germain- 
en-Laye.  Jarnac  had  cast  some  foul  imputations  on 
Chataignerie,  who  was  one  of  the  most  skilful  and 
accomplished  cavaliers  of  France,  and  who  so  com- 
pletely despised  his  antagonist,  that  he  fought  care- 
lessly, and  was  vanquished.  By  a  thrust  totally  un- 
expected, Jarnac  wounded  him  in  the  thigh  and 
brought  him  to  the  ground.  Henry  instantly  flung 
down  his  baton,  to  put  an  end  to  the  encounter,  and 
Jarnac,  as  the  law  of  arms  required,  desisted ;  but  his 
competitor,  stung  with  disappointment  and  covered 
with  shame,  would  not  accept  the  life  of  which  the 
honour  and  glory  was  gone ;  and  having  torn  off  the 
bandages  from  his  wounds,  soon  after  expired. 


108  BEAUTIES  OF 

Henry  was  remarkably  fond  of  tournaments  and 
entertainments,  and  indulged  in  them  to  excess;  but 
these  innocent  exhibitions  were  soon  followed  by 
others  of  a  very  different  character.  The  reforma- 
tion had  broken  out  in  Germany,  and  had  spread  in 
France,  where  a  number  of  proselytes  to  the  doctrines 
of  Calvin  and  Luther  were  publicly  and  solemnly 
burnt,  as  examples  to  their  companions ;  the  king 
and  his  whgle  court  being  present  at  these  inhuman 
sacrifices,  which  were  performed  -with  a  refinement 
of  cruelty,  worthier  of  a  race  of  savages  than  of 
civilized  men,  professing  the  faith  of  Him  who  Avent 
about  doing  good. 

Henry  had  married  Catherine  de  Medicis;  but  his 
favours  were  shared  by  a  beautiful  though  desio-nin"- 
woman,  Diana  of  Poitiers,  created  Duchess  of  Valen- 
tinois.  She  was  near  twenty  years  older  than  the 
king;  and  an  attachment  so  unusual,  between  per- 
sons of  such  unequal  ages  was,  by  his  subjects,  attri- 
buted to  sorcery.  It  was  affirmed  that  the  duchess 
wore  magical  rings  to  prevent  the  decay  of  her  beauty, 
which  she  retained  in  a  remarkable  degree  even  till 
the  autumn  of  her  days.  A  writer  who  saw  her 
when  nearly  seventy  years  old,  speaks  of  her  as 
being  "so  lovely,  that  the  most  insensible  person 
could  not  have  looked  upon  her  without  emotion." 
This  guilty  attachment  of  the  king  produced  mucli 
of  the  misery  which  embittered  the  latter  years  of  liis 
reign.    To  satisfy  her  extravagance  he  had  to  lew 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  109 

taxes  of  an  odious  and  unbearable  nature.  Thus  is 
it  always  with  impure  affection;  it  bears,  like  a 
scorpion,  a  sting  that  destroys  others,  and  in  the  end 
itself. 

In  1549,  Margaret,  the  king's  aunt,  and  sister  of 
Francis,  died.  She  was  indisputably  the  most  ac- 
complished princess  of  the  age :  devoted  to  the  love 
of  letters,  she  encouraged  and  patronized  men  of 
genius  and  learning,  from  whom  she  received  the 
flattering  epithets  of  "  the  Tenth  Muse"  and  "  the 
Fourth  Grace."  She  was  herself  an  authoress,  and  her 
tales  are  much  in  the  style  of  those  of  Boccaccio. 
Though  she  ^vas  sometimes  so  devout  as  to  compose 
hymns,  she  was  unhappily  an  csj^rit  fori,  and  had 
even  doubts  concerning  the  immortality  of  the  soul. 
Brantome,  the  historian,  has  preserved  a  curious 
story  relative  to  the  death  of  one  of  her  maids  of  ho- 
nour. She  remained  by  the  bedside  of  the  dying 
lady,  on  whom  she  continued  to  fix  her  eyes  with 
intense  eagerness.  When  asked  what  satisfaction 
she  could  possibly  derive  from  such  a  painful  in- 
spection, her  answer  marked  a  daring  and  inquisitive 
mind.  She  said,  "  that  having  often  heard  the  most 
learned  doctors  and  ecclesiastics  assert,  that  on  the 
extinction  of  the  body,  the  immortal  part  was  un- 
loosed and  set  at  liberty,  she  could  not  restrain  her 
anxious  curiosity  to  observe  if  any  indications  of 
such  a  separation  were  discernible,  but  could  per- 
ceive none." 

10 


no  BEAUTIES  OP 

In  1558,  Francis,  the  Dauphin,  afterwards  Francis 
the  Second,  was  married  in  the  church  of  Notre  Dame, 
at  Paris,  to  Mary,  the  young  Queen  of  Scotland,  the 
melancholy  story  of  whose  after  life  is  so  familiar  to 
the  English  reader. 

Henry''s  eldest  daughter,  Mary,  was  married 
A.  D.  1559,  to  Philip  of  Spain;  on  which  occasion, 
tournaments  and  carousals  added  a  martial  magnifi- 
cence to  amusements  of  a  gentler  nature :  an  en- 
coimter,  however,  in  one  of  these,  proved  fatal  to  the 
king.  The  lists  extended  from  the  palace  of  the 
Tournelles  to  the  Bastile ;  and  Henry  himself  had 
broken  many  lances,  with  more  than  his  usual  vigour 
and  address.  On  the  third  day  of  the  tournament,  as 
he  was  retiring  amid  the  applauses  of  his  subjects,  he 
observed  two  lances  lying  at  the  entrance  to  the 
theatre. — Seizing  one  of  them,  he  ordered  the  other 
to  be  given  to  Montgomery,  the  commander  of  the 
Royal  Scotch  Guards,  who  thrice  declined  the  ho- 
nour, but  at  length  accepted  the  challenge  with  ex- 
treme reluctance.  The  king  became  the  more  eager 
and  obstinate,  and,  almost  without  giving  his  anta- 
gonist time  to  put  himself  on  his  defence  sprung  for- 
ward at  him.  The  shock  was  so  violent  as  to  raise  the 
king's  helmet,  and  to  break  the  lance  of  Montgomery ; 
a  splinter  of  which  entered  the  left  temple  of  the  king, 
who  died  a  few  days  after  from  the  effects  of  the 
wound,  on  the  10th  of  July,  1559. 

Amongst  the  remarkable  men  who  flourished  in 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  Ill 

the  reign  of  Henry  the  Second,  Stephen  Jodelle  de- 
serves particular  notice,  from  being  the  first  who 
undertook  to  write  such  dramatic  pieces  as  have  been 
imitated  ever  since,  in  opposition  to  the  profaneness 
of  the  representations  then  in  vogue,  of  which  reli- 
gious mysteries  vvrere  always  the  subjects. 

FRANCIS  THE   SECOND, 

Ascended  the  throne  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  the  queen- 
mother,  Catherine  de  Medicis,  being  regent  and  go- 
verning in  his  name.  He  lived  only  two  years  ;  and 
after  his  death,  his  young  and  lovely  queen,  Mary, 
returned  to  her  dominions  in  Scotland. 

The  reign  of  Francis  was  chiefly  remarkable  for 
the  commencement  of  those  animosities  between  the 
families  of  Guise  and  Bourbon,  which  produced  in 
the  time  of  his  successor  effects  so  dreadful  as  to 
leave  an  indelible  stain  upon  the  history  of  France. 
The  bright  days  of  Francis  ihe  First,  and  Henry  the 
Second,  the  noble  and  animating  contest  for  glory 
with  Charles  the  Fifth,  and  Philip  the  Second,  were 
succeeded  by  intestine  confusion,  rebellion,  massacre, 
and  revolt.  Catherine  de  Medicis,  like  an  evil  genius, 
mingled  and  embroiled  all  ranks  and  parties  •,  and  the 
spirit  of  civil  discord  and  religious  frenzy  seemed 
almost  to  extinguish  every  sentiment  of  humanity, 
patriotism,  and  virtue  throughout  the  once  honour- 
able and  chivalrous  realm  of  France. 

Francis,  Duke  of  Guise,  and  his  brother  the  Car- 


112  BEAUTIES   OP 

(linal  of  Lorraine,  had  the  confidence  of  the  king  and 
the  interest  of  the  queen-mother  :  Anthony  of  Bour- 
bon, King  of  Navarre,  and  Louis,  Prmce  of  Conde, 
his  brother,  were  opposed  to  these  noblemen;  and 
thus  two  rival  and  powerful  factions  were  formed, 
which,  for  several  years,  kept  the  kingdom  almost  in 
a  state  of  civil  war.  The  Bourbons  patronized  the 
then  increasing  but  unpopular  Huguenots.  Coligni, 
Admiral  of  France,  and  D'Andelot,  his  brother,  both 
of  them  proselytes  to  Calvinism,  embraced  the  Bour- 
bon party,  and  adhered  to  it  to  the  end. 

Severities  against  the  professors  of  the  reformed 
religion  were  carried  on  at  Paris  to  a  cruel  extent 
Dm  Bourg,  a  man  of  distinguished  talents  and  erudi- 
tion, was  strangled,  and  his  body  consumed  to  ashes. 
At  length  the  Calvinists  began  secretly  to  unite  for 
their  common  presei-vation.  A  large  body  of  them 
attacked  the  most  malignant  of  their  enemies,  the 
Guises,  in  the  castle  of  Amboise ;  but  were  discom- 
fited, and  the  greater  number  either  killed  in  the  en- 
counter, or  hanged  afterwards.  Not  fewer  than  1200 
suffered  under  tlie  hands  of  the  executioner.  The 
streets  of  Amboise  ran  with  blood ;  the  Loire  was 
covered  with  floating  carcasses ;  and  all  the  open 
places  were  crowded  with  gibbets.  Villemongey, 
one  of  the  principal  conspirators,  being  led  to  the 
scaffold  (already  covered  with  the  bodies  of  his 
friends,)  imbrued  his  hands  in  tlieir  blood,  and  hold- 
ing them  up,  exclaimed,  "  Behold,  righteous  judge ! 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  113 

the  innocent  blood  of  those  who  have  fought  for  thy 
cause.  Thou  wilt  not  leave  it  unavenged."  Cathe- 
rine, her  three  sons,  and  the  chief  ladies  of  the  court, 
beheld  from  their  castle  windows,  as  a  diversion,  the 
horrid  and  sickening  spectacle  presented  by  the  town, 
and  were  present  at  many  of  the  executions. 

Through  the  overwhelming  influence  of  the  Guises, 
the  Prince  of  Conde  was  imprisoned  and  sentenced 
to  lose  his  head.  Apprehensive  that  his  brother, 
Anthony  of  Bourbon,  would  revenge  his  death,  they 
determined  upon  his  assassination.  The  weak  and 
misguided  king  was  to  be  made  the  instrument  of  one 
of  the  basest  and  foulest  murders  that  had  ever  been 
devised.  It  was  agreed  that  he  should  command  the 
attendance  of  Anthony  in  his  own  cabinet,  the  Guises 
being  present;  Avhen,  feigning  to  have  discovered 
new  proofs  of  his  treasonable  practices,  he  should 
reproach  him  in  the  severest  manner.  As  they  na- 
turally expected  he  would  reply  waniily,  they  meant 
to  take  advantage  of  the  circumstance,  and  despatch 
him  in  the  confusion,  under  the  pretence  that  he  had 
threatened  the  life  of  the  king.  Anthony  was  in- 
formed of  the  plot;  but  finding  himself  completely  in 
the  power  of  the  Guises,  resolved  to  prepare  him- 
self for  the  worst,  and  to  dispute  his  life  with  his 
sword  when  attacked.  "  If  they  kill  me,"  said  he  to 
one  of  his  faithful  gentlemen,  "  carry  my  shirt  all 
bloody  to  my  wife  and  son ;  they  will  read  in  my 
blood  what  they  ought  to  do  to  avenge  it."  Anthony 
10* 


114  BEAUTIES  OF 

accordingly  obeyed  the  king''s  order,  and  entering-  the 
apartment  where  he  was  seated,  approached  him, 
and  kissed  his  hand  with  profound  submission.  Sof- 
tened by  this  behaviour,  and  affected  by  his  presence, 
the  king  changed  his  resolution,  and  omitting  to  give 
the  sign  previously  agreed  on,  at  which  the  sur- 
rounding attendants  were  to  fall  upon  him,  permitted 
him  to  withdraw.  It  is  added,  that  the  Duke  of  Guise, 
finding  his  project  abortive,  exclaimed,  in  a  voice  full 
of  indignation,  "Oh,  le  timide  et  lache  enfant!" 

Amid  these  intrigues  and  cabals,  Francis  the  Se- 
cond died,  A.  D.  1560.  His  character  has  been 
given  by  Voltaire  in  two  lines  : 

Foible  enfant,  qui  de  Guise  adorait  les  caprices, 
Et  dont  on  ignorait  les  vertus  et  les  vices. 

The  crown  descended  to  his  brother 

CHARLES  THE  NINTH. 

The  death  of  Francis  set  at  liberty  the  Prince  of 
Conde  ;  who,  with  a  courage  and  magnanimity  be- 
coming himself,  refused  to  quit  his  prison  till  he  knew 
who  had  been  his  prosecutors  and  accusers :  but  no 
person  dared  to  avow  himself  as  such.  The  Guises 
declared,  that  every  step  had  been  taken  by  the  late 
king's  express  and  particular  command. 

Charles  was  but  ten  years  and  a  half  old  when  he 
ascended  the  throne ;  and  the  annals  of  nations  do 
not  present  to  us  a  reign  that  produced  events  of  a 


FRENCH    HISTORY.  115 

more  calamitous  nature.  The  kingdom,  from  one  end 
to  the  other,  became  involved  in  all  the  worst  hor- 
rors of  civil  war ;  until  the  dreadful  night  of  St.  Bartho- 
lomew, stained  with  blood  and  veiled  in  darkness, 
completed  one  of  the  most  frightful  pictures  that  the 
imagination  can  conceive.  This  bloody  tragedy  stands 
unparalleled  in  the  history  of  mankind  ;  its  atrocity 
has  never  been  equalled ;  and,  even  after  a  lapse  of 
three  centuries,  it  is  impossible  to  recur  to  it  without 
shuddering. 

The  civil  wars,  of  which  religion  (a  religion  far 
diflerent  from  that  of  its  patient  and  long  sufTering 
Founder)  formed  the  leading  pretext,  were  commen- 
ced by  the  massacre  at  Vassey,  in  Champagne.  A 
dispute  arose  between  the  Huguenots  and  some  do- 
mestics of  the  Duke  of  Guise,  which  the  duke  him- 
self endeavoured  to  check ;  but  in  the  attempt  he  was 
severely  wounded  by  a  blow  on  the  cheek  from  a  stone. 
His  attendants  immediately  attacked  the  Huguenots, 
and  killed  or  wounded  above  two  hundred  and  fifty. 

The  King  of  Navarre,  the  Prince  of  Conde,  and  the 
Duke  of  Guise,  fell  in  the  course  of  the  struggles  that 
succeeded  ;  the  duke  was  assassinated,  the  others  died 
in  battle.  The  Admiral  Coligni  was  accused  of  being 
a  party  to  the  murder;  and  his  protestations  of  in- 
nocence failed  to  satisfy  the  family  of  the  Guises. 
The  duke's  eldest  son,  then  a  boy,  vowed  eternal 
hatred  towards  the  admiral ;  and  his  revenge  was 
satiated  on  the  fatal  night  of  St.  Bartholomew. 


116  BEAUTIES  OP 

In  one  of  the  subsequent  battles  between  the  Ca- 
tholics and  the  Huguenots,  fought  on  the  plains  of 
St.  Denis,  the  general  of  the  Catholics,  Montmorenci, 
was  slain.  He  had  received  four  wounds  in  the  face, 
and  a  severe  one  from  a  battle-axe,  but  was  still  en- 
deavouring to  rally  his  troops,  when  Robert  Stuart, 
a  Scotchman,  said  to  be  of  the  blood-royal,  rode  up 
to  him  and  levelled  a  pistol  at  his  head.  "Dost  thou 
know  me  ?"  said  Montmorenci ;  "  I  am  the  constable 
of  France."  "Yes,"  answered  Stuart,  "I  know  thee 
well,  and  therefore  1  present  thee  this."  So  saying, 
he  discharged  a  ball  into  the  constable's  shoulder, 
who  fell ;  but,  while  falling,  he  dashed  the  hilt  of 
his  broken  sword  into  his  enemy's  mouth,  which 
fractured  his  jaw,  and  laid  hifn  senseless  on  the 
ground.  Stuart  was  afterwards  taken  prisoner,  and 
executed. 

The  end  of  the  Prince  of  Conde  had  more  the 
character  of  assassination,  than  of  the  death  of  a  war- 
rior in  the  field.  He  went  into  the  action  of  Jarnac 
with  his  arm  in  a  sling,  and  almost  immediately  had 
his  leg  broken  by  the  rearing  of  his  brother-in-law's 
horse.  Unmoved  by  so  painful  an  accident,  or  at 
least  disdaining  to  betray  any  unbecoming  emotion 
at  such  a  crisis,  he  coolly  observed  to  those  around 
him,  "Learn  that  unruly  horses  do  more  injury  than 
service  in  an  army."  And  then  continued,  "  Know 
that  the  Prince  of  Conde  disdains  not  to  give  battle 
with  an  arm  in  a  scarf  and  a  leg  broken,  since  you 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  117 

attend  him."  The  fortune  of  the  day  was  against  the 
Huguenots,  and  the  prince  was  surrounded  and  taken 
prisoner.  He  was  placed  at  the  foot  of  a  tree,  co- 
vered with  wounds  •,  when  a  ruffian,  named  Montes- 
quieu, a  captain  in  the  Swiss  guards,  galloped  to  the 
spot.  Havmg  been  informed  who  the  captive  was ; 
"  Tuez,  tuez,  mprdieu !"  he  exclahned,  and  instantly 
discharged  his  pistol  at  the  prince,  who  fell  dead  on 
the  spot. 

The  actual  command  of  the  Huguenot  forces  de- 
volved upon  Coligni,  after  the  death  of  Conde. 
Having  achieved  several  victories,  a  peace  highly  to 
the  advantage  of  his  friends  was  obtained;  and  he 
was  induced  to  dismiss  his  army,  and  assist  in  the 
government  of  Charles  the  Ninth.  He  received,  how- 
ever, repeated  warnings  that  the  seeming  quiet  was 
but  a  hollow  truce  for  the  purpose  of  gaining  time  to 
effect  his  destruction  and  that  of  the  Huguenots,  and 
to  abolish  the  reformation  in  France,  by  the  total  ex- 
tinction of  the  reformers.  Though  conscious  of 
danger,  Coligni  replied,  that  he  would  rather  suffer 
himself  to  be  dragged  through  the  streets  of  Paris 
than  renew  the  horrors  of  civil  war. 

Towards  the  beginning  of  1572,  the  plot  of  Ca- 
iherine  de  Medicis,  and  her  party,  began  to  ripen. 
The  entire  destruction  of  the  Huguenots  was  resolved 
upon ;  and  the  assassination  of  Coligni  was  deter- 
mined, as  a  prelude  to  the  general  massacre.  On  the 
22d  of  August,  a  nnan  named  Mourevel,  selected  for 


118  BEAUTIES  OF 

that  purpose,  posted  himself  in  a  little  chamber  of 
the  cloister  of  St.  Germain  de  I'Auxerrois,  near  which 
Coligni  usually  passed  on  his  way  from  the  Louvre 
to  his  own  house.  As  tlie  admiral  walked  slowly  on, 
perusing  some  piapers,  Mourevel,  from  a  window, 
levelled  at  him  an  arquebuse,  loaded  with  two  balls, 
one  of  which  broke  the  forefinger  of  his  right  hand, 
and  the  other  lodged  in  his  left  arm,  near  the  elbow. 
The  assassin  instantly  fled,  and,  mounting  a  swift 
horse  provided  for  him  by  the  duke  of  Guise,  es- 
caped. Coligni,  without  betraying  the  least  emotion, 
turned  calmly  round,  and  pointing  with  his  bleeding 
hand  toward  the  window,  said,  "  Le  coup  vient  de- 
la."  He  was  taken  home  and  his  wounds  dressed. 
The  king,  when  informed  of  the  affair,  affected  the 
greatest  anger,  and  carried  his  hypocrisy  so  far  as  to 
visit  Coligni  in  person.  The  Calvinist  nobles  called 
for  instant  justice ;  and  one  of  them,  at  the  head  of 
four  hundred  gentlemen,  entered  the  palace  of  the 
Louvre,  demanding  to  be  revenged  on  the  assassin. 

This  rash  step  accelerated  the  massacre.  On  the 
evening  of  the  24th  of  August,  1572,  being  Sunday, 
and  the  day  of  the  feast  of  St.  Bartholomew,  the  duke 
of  Guise  went,  about  twilight,  with  orders  from  the 
court,  to  Charron,  provost  of  Paris,  to  provide  two 
thousand  armed  men;  each  to  have  a  white  sleeve  on 
his  left  arm,  and  a  white  cross  on  his  hat;  and  to  di- 
rect that  on  ringing  the  bell  of  the  palace  clock,  the 
whole  city  should  be  illuminated. 


FRENCH  HISTORY,  119 

As  the  awful  moment  approached,  some  principles 
of  remaining  honour,  some  sentiments  of  humanity, 
commiseration,  and  virtue,  which  all  the  pernicious 
counsels  of  his  mother  had  not  been  able  effectually 
to  destroy,  maintained  a  conflict  in  Charles's  bosom, 
(yold  sweats  bedewed  his  forehead,  and  his  whole 
frame  trembled,  as  if  under  an  attack  of  ague.  With 
the  greatest  difficulty,  Catherine  forced  from  him  a 
precise  command  to  begin  the  massacre ;  and,  fearing 
he  might  retract  his  consent,  she  hastened  the  signal 
bell  more  than  an  hour  before  the  concerted  time. 
It  tolled  from  the  church  of  St.  Germain  de  I'Auxer- 
rois. 

The  admiral  had  long  retired  to  rest,  when  the 
noise  made  by  the  assassins  in  forcing  the  gates  of 
his  house,  gave  him  warning  that  his  end  was  near. 
His  confidential  servant  entered  his  apartment,  ex- 
claiming, "Arise,  my  lord,  God  calls  us  to  himself!" 
The  good  and  gallant  Coligni  sprang  from  his  bed, 
and  prepared  himself  for  death.  A  German,  named 
Besme,  burst  open  the  door,  and  stood  before  him 
with  a  drawn  rapier  in  his  hand.  "  Young  man," 
said  he,  "  respect  my  gray  hairs,  and  do  not  stain 
them  with  blood."  Besme  hesitated  a  moment,  and 
then  plunged  his  weapon  into  the  bosom  of  the  un- 
armed and  aged  man ;  after  which,  his  followers 
threw  the  body  from  the  window  into  the  court-yard, 
w^here  it  was  anxiously  expected  by  the  duke  of 
Guise,  who  contemplated  it  in  silence,  and  offered  it 


120  BEAUTIES  OF 

no  insult.  But  Henry  of  Angouleme,  Grand  Prior  of 
France,  having  wiped  the  face  with  a  handkerchief, 
and  recognizing  it  as  Coligni's,  kicked  the  corpse, 
and  exclaimed  with  brutal  exultation,  "Courage!  my 
friends !  we  have  begun  well,  let  us  finish  in  the  same 
manner !" 

Teligni,  the  son-in-law  of  Coligni,  a  youth  of  most 
beautiful  person  and  engaging  manners,  was  butchered 
in  attempting  to  escape  over  the  roof  of  the  house. 
The  fate  of  the  Count  de  la  Rochefoucault,  too,  was 
attended  with  circumstances  that  excited  peculiar  pity 
and  indignation.  He  had  passed  the  evening  with 
the  king  at  play ;  and  Charles,  touched  with  some 
feeling  of  human  nature  towards  a  nobleman  whom 
he  personally  loved,  ordered  him  to  remain  in  his 
privy  chamber  during  the  night.  The  count,  how- 
ever, conceiving  that  it  was  a  plan  to  furnish  amuse- 
ment at  his  expense,  refused,  and  departed.  "I  see," 
said  Charles,  "  it  is  the  will  of  God  that  he  should 
perish."  When  the  officer  who  was  sent  to  destroy 
him,  knocked  at  his  door,  he  opened  it  himself,  and 
seeing  several  persons  in  masks,  imagined  that  the 
king  had  come  to  play  some  youthful  frolic ;  and  as 
he  uttered  a  piece  of  badinage,  was  stabbed  to  the 
heart. 

The  house  of  every  Huguenot  in  the  city  was 
broken  open,  and  the  wretched"  inhabitants  murdered, 
without  distinction  to  age  or  sex.  Their  slaughtered 
and  mangled  bodies  were  thrown  in  heaps  before 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  121 

the  gates  of  the  Louvre,  to  satiate  at  once  the  cu- 
riosity and  vengeance  of  the  liend  Catherine  and  her 
brutal  court.  Even  Charles  gave  his  personal  aid  in 
the  massacre ;  and,  it  is  said,  fired  on  his  wretched 
subjects  with  a  long  arquebuse  from  his  windows, 
endeavouring  to  kill  the  fugitives  who  sought  to 
escape  from  the  Fauxbourg  St.  Germain. 

The  corpse  of  the  Admiral  Coligni  was  treated  with 
indignities,  the  bare  mention  of  which  is  a  disgrace 
to  human  nature.  An  Italian  cut  off  the  head,  and 
carried  it  to  Catherine  de  Medicis,  who  received  it 
with  undisguised  joy.  It  was  afterwards  sent  to 
Rome  as  an  acceptable  present  to  the  sovereign  pon- 
tiff! The  mutilated  trunk  was  thrown  upon  a  dung- 
hill, and  subsequently  hung  upon  a  gibbet,  by  an  iron 
chain  attached  to  the  feet,  under  which  a  fire  was 
lighted,  and  it  was  scorched  without  being  consumed. 
While  in  this  condition  the  king  went,  with  several 
of  his  courtiers,  to  gaze  at  it ;  and  as  the  corpse  smelt 
disagreeably,  some  of  them  turned  away  their  heads. 
"The  body  of  a  dead  enemy,"  said  Charles,  "always 
smells  well." 

During  a  whole  week  the  system  of  extermination 
was  continued,  though  its  extreme  fury  lasted  only 
two  days.  More  than  five  thousand  persons  of  all 
ranks,  perished  by  various  kinds  of  deaths,  and  the 
Seine  was  loaded  with  floating  carcasses.  A  butcher, 
who  entered  the  palace  of  the  Louvre  while  the  mas- 
sacre was  at  its  height,  is  said  to  have  bared  his 
11 


122  BEAUTIES  OP 

bloody  arm  before  the  sovereign,  and  to  have  boasted 
tliat  he  had  himself  despatched  a  hundred  and  fifty 
Huguenots. 

Margaret,  queen  of  Navarre,  in  her  Memoirs,  re- 
lates, that  after  she  had  retired  to  bed  on  the  fatal  night 
a  person  came  to  her  door,  and  knocked  violently  with 
his  hands  and  feet,  crying  out,  "  Navarre  !  Navarre !" 
It  was  opened;  when  a  gentleman  named  Gersan 
rushed  in,  pursued  by  four  archers,  threw  himself  on 
her  bed,  and  besought  her  to  save  him.  With  much 
difficulty  she  succeeded  in  preserving  his  life. 

Orders  were  speedily  despatched  to  different  quar- 
ters of  the  kingdom,  for  the  continuation  of  the  in- 
human butchery ;  and  the  number  of  slain  is  said  to 
have  amounted  to  forty  thousand.  Some  few  noble 
spirits  refused  to  obey  the  king's  mandate.  One 
of  them  deserves  especial  mention.  The  Viscount 
d'Ortez,  governor  of  Bayonne,  though  a  Catholic, 
had  the  courage  to  send  this  answer  to  Charles : 
"Sire,  I  have  read  the  letter  to  the  inhabitants  of 
Bayonne,  enjoining  a  massacre  of  the  Huguenots. 
Your  majesty  has  many  faithfully  devoted  subjects 
in  this  city,  but  not  one  executioner." 

It  is  time  to  close  the  record  of  this  diabolical  act, 
which  forms  so  prominent  a  part  of  the  history  of 
France,  that  it  was  impossible  to  omit  it ;  yet  it  will 
have  one  effect  that  may  counteract  the  sickening 
horror  with  which  it  must  be  read — it  will  induce  u.s 
to  thank  God  that  we  live  in  an  age,  in  a  country, 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  123 

and  under  a  government,  whose  motto  is  "  Tole- 
rance." 

The  judgment  of  Providence  overtook  the  main 
authors  of  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew.  The 
king  became  a  prey  to  disease  of  body  and  mind,  and 
died  miserably,  in  1574,  when  only  twenty-five  years 
of  age ;  and  as  he  left  no  issue  male  to  inherit  the 
throne,  he  declared  his  brother,  the  Duke  of  Anjou 
and  king  of  Poland,  his  successor. 

The  infamous  Catherine  lived  until  1589,  but  af- 
flicted with  gout  and  other  disorders.  Various  stories 
illustrative  of  her  superstition  are  recorded.  She  al- 
ways carried  about  her  person  cabalistical  characters, 
written  on  the  skin  of  a  stillborn  infant;  and  several 
talismans  and  amulets  were  found  in  her  cabinet  after 
her  death.  She  once  consulted  a  famous  astrologer 
on  the  fortunes  of  all  her  children,  and  he  showed 
her  in  a  mirror  the  number  of  years  that  each  would 
reign,  by  the  number  of  turns  they  made.  Francis 
the  Second,  Charles  the  Ninth,  and  Henry  the  Third, 
passed  successively  in  review  before  her.  She  even 
saw  Henry  Duke  of  Guise,  who  disappeared  on  a 
sudden ;  and  Henry  the  Fourth,  who  made  twenty- 
four  turns.  This  last  circumstance  increased  the 
aversion  she  had  always  entertained  towards  that 
(subsequently)  great  monarch. 

As  an  instance  of  the  arrogant  power  assumed  by 
Charles  the  Ninth,  he  is  stated,  when  almost  a  child, 
to   have   thus   addressed   the  Parliament  of  Paris : 


124 


BEAUTIES  OF 


"  Your  duty  is  to  obey  my  orders ;  presume  not  to 
examine  Avhat  they  are,  but  obey  them.  I  know 
better  than  you  what  the  state  and  expediency  re- 
quire." This  is  indeed,  a  rare  specimen  of  the  "  right 
divine ;"  nor  was  it  the  mere  effect  of  boyish  petu- 
lance ;  it  was  the  spirit  that  uniformly  animated  the 
kings  of  the  House  of  Valois.  Times  have  changed 
in  France, 

HENRY  THE  THIRD 

Succeeded  to  the  crown  at  the  age  of  twenty-four. 
He  was  then  in  Poland,  having  been  elected  king  of 
that  country  about  a  year  previously. 

The  King  of  Navarre  (afterwards  Henry  the 
Fourth)  deserted  Henry's  interest  soon  after  his 
accession,  joined  the  Huguenot  party,  abjured  the 
Catholic  faith,  and  commanded  a  large  and  powerful 
party  against  him.  The  king  was  glad  to  make  peace 
on  terms  highly  advantageous  to  the  Protestants,  who 
obtained  the  free  exercise  of  their  religion,  shared  the 
courts  of  justice,  and  several  towns  ceded  to  them  as 
security  for  their  rights.  In  consequence  of  the 
Huguenots  having  gained  so  many  advantages,  the 
Catholics  became  alarmed,  and  formed  the  celebrated 
"League,"  at  the  head  of  which  was  the  Duke  of 
Guise.  But  to  counteract  its  effects,  the  king  of  Na- 
varre succeeded  in  inducing  the  confederate  princes 
of  Germany  to  semi  an  army  of  aid  to  the  Huguenots. 

The  influence  of  the  duke  of  Guise  in  Paris  waa 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  125 

SO  great  as  to  render  the  king  a  mere  puppet,  to  take 
from  him  all  power,  and,  indeed,  to  place  him  in  a 
situation  little  better  than  that  of  a  state  prisoner. 
Henry  attempted  the  destruction  of  the  duke ;  and 
proposed  to  Grillon,  the  colonel  of  his  guards,  to 
rid  him  of  the  man  who  rendered  even  his  life  un- 
safe. "  Sire,"  replied  Grillon,  "  I  am  your  majesty's 
faithful  servant ;  but  my  profession  is  that  of  a  sol- 
dier :  '1  am  ready,  this  instant,  to  lay  down  my  life 
in  your  service ;  I  will  challenge  the  duke  of  Guise 
if  you  command  me ;  but  while  I  live  I  will  not  be 
an  executioner."  Others,  however,  less  scrupulous 
were  found ;  and  it  was  resolved  that  the  deed  should 
be  perpetrated  on  the  23d  of  December,  1-588.  On 
the  morning  of  that  day,  the  king  directed  the  cap- 
tain of  his  guard  to  double  the  number  of  soldiers ; 
and  having  detained  with  him,  in  his  closet,  several 
gentlemen  of  tried  courage,  sent  for  the  duke  of 
Guise.  The  duke  obeyed,  rose  from  the  fire,  near 
which  he  was  seated,  and  passed  into  the  ante-cham- 
ber, the  door  of  which  M'as  immediately  locked  after 
him.  Seeing  only  eight  gentlemen  of  the  king's 
guard  who  were  known  to  him,  he  proceeded  to  the 
door  of  the  closet;  and  as  he  stretched  forth  his 
hand  to  open  it,  St.  Malin,  one  of  the  eight,  stabbed 
him  with  a  dagger  in  the  neck;  on  Avhich  the  other 
seven  crowded  around  him,  each  gave  him  a  blow, 
and  killed  him.  The  brothers  of  the  duke  were  in- 
stantly made  prisoners,  the  doors  opened,  and  all 
11* 


126  BEAUTIES  OF 

who  wished  admitted.  Henry,  addressing  them, 
said,  "  he  hoped  his  subjects  -would  learn  to  know 
and  obey  him  ;  that  having  conquered  the  head,  he 
should  have  less  difficulty  in  subduing  the  members ; 
and  that  he  was  resolved  to  be  not  nominally,  but 
really  a  monarch."  The  cardinal  of  Guise  was  also 
put  to  death,  and  the  bodies  of  the  brothers  buried 
secretly  with  quicklime,  that  no  use  might  be  made 
of  them  in  inflaming  the  people.  Such  was  the  end 
of  one  of  the  most  daring  and  ambitious  men  of  the 
age  in  which  he  lived.  When  the  report  of  his  death 
reached  Paris,  on  Christmas  eve,  it  flew  like  lightning 
over  the  city;  and  nothing  was  thought  of  but  ven- 
geance for  the  murder  of  the  favourite  of  the  people. 
The  college  of  Sorbonne  voted  that  the  sovereign  had 
forfeited  his  riglit  to  the  crown,  and  that  his  subjects 
ought  no  longer  to  acknowledge  his  authority.  While 
the  capital  was  in  this  state  of  insurrection,  the  king 
agreed  to  unite  his  forces  and  interests  with  those 
of  the  king  of  Navarre ;  and  their  joint  armies  were 
every  where  successful. 

With  a  force  of  42,000  men,  the  kings  laid  siege 
to  Paris.  At  this  time  Jacques  Clement,  a  Domini- 
can friar,  whether  from  enthusiasm  or  by  persuasion 
of  "  the  league"  is  uncertain,  resolved  upon  the  as- 
sassination of  Henry.  The  Count  de  Brienne,  who 
was  then  a  prisoner  in  Paris,  having  been  made  to 
believe  that  Clement  might  be  instrumental  in  intro- 
ducing the  king  into  the  city,  and  entertaining  no  sus- 


FRENCH  histohy.  127 

picion  of  his  intentions,  gave  him  letters  of  introduc- 
tion to  his  majesty.  On  the  morning  of  the  1st  of 
August,  1589,  the  friar  was  conducted  to  his  dress- 
ing-room, and  having  delivered  the  count's  letters 
into  the  king's  own  hand,  stabbed  him  with  a  knife, 
deep  in  the  belly.  Henry,  drawing  out  the  knife  him- 
self, struck  it  into  the  assassin's  forehead.*  The 
gentlemen  of  his  chamber  also  seized  him,  pierced 
him  with  their  swords,  and  threw  him,  still  alive, 
over  the  window  to  the  soldiers,  who  burnt  him  and 
scattered  his  ashes  in  the  river.  Henry  died  of  this 
wound  two  days  after  its  infliction,  in  the  thirty-sixth 
year  of  his  age,  and  the  sixteenth  of  his  reign,  leav- 
mg  no  issue.  When  he  found  his  strength  decaying, 
and  that  he  had  not  many  hours  to  live,  he  sent  for 
the  king  of  Navarre  and  the  principal  nobility ;  ex- 
horted the  latter  to  acknowledge  the  former  as  their 
lawful  sovereign ;  and,  at  the  same  time  embracing 
him,  said,  "Brother,  you  Avill  never  be  king  of 
France,  unless  you  become  a  Catholic."  He  is  de- 
scribed as  fickle,  unstable,  imprudent,  and  mean  ; — 
his  name  was  almost  universally  detested ;  and  it  is 
added,  that  "  no  man  loved  him."  Some  historians 
have  affirmed  that  he  was  assassinated  in  the  very 

*  Sully,  in  relating  the  circumstance,  says,  that  when  Henry 
had  received  the  letters  from  Clement,  he  asked  him  if  he  had 
given  him  all.  "  No,  sire,"  said  the  assassin,  "  I  have  still  one 
more,"  and  instantly  drew  forth  his  knife,  and  stabbed  him,    ' 


128  BEAUTIES  OF 

chamber  in  which  was  formed  the  resolution  to  exe- 
cute the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew. 

His  successor,  the  king  of  Navarre,  treated  him 
with  pity  and  generosity ;  and  he  had  his  reward ; 
but  if  he  had  been  absent  at  a  distance  from  Paris, 
and  not  at  the  head  of  a  large  and  victorious  army 
under  its  walls,  he  would  never  have  succeeded  to 
the  crown ;  and  France  would  have  been  deprived  of 
the  boast,  that  at  least  one  of  her  monarchs  deserved 
the  immortality  he  obtained. 

A  curious,  but  well-authenticated  anecdote  is  re- 
lated of  the  duke  of  Anjou,  the  brother  of  Henry  the 
Third.  In  1581,  he  passed  over  to  England  for  the 
purpose  of  offering  marriage  to  Queen  Elizabeth, 
with  whom  he  had  previously  corresponded,  and 
from  whom  he  had  received  money  in  aid  of  the 
Protestant  cause  in  France.  On  his  arrival  in  Lon- 
don, Elizabeth  encouraged  his  addresses  so  far,  that 
on  the  anniversary  of  her  coronation,  she  publicly 
took  a  ring  from  her  own  finger  and  placed  it  upon 
his.  Yet  ambition  and  prudence  triumphed  over 
love ;  for  after  a  painful  struggle  between  inclination 
and  duty,  or — if  female  affection  ought  to  be  ex- 
cluded— between  one  political  plan  and  another,  she 
decided  against  his  pretensions ;  and  having  sent  foi 
him,  informed  him  of  her  final  determination.  In 
dignation,  disgust,  and  resentment  agitated  the  disap- 
pointed duke ;  he  threw  away  her  ring  with  many 
imprecations,  returned  to  the  Netherlands,  of  which 


FRENCH  HISTORT.  129 

he  was  governor,  was  subsequently  expelled  that 
country,  and  died  in  1584. 

This  projected  marriage  was  very  unpalatable  to 
her  English  subjects;  and  would  have  been  most  pre- 
judicial to  the  interests  of  her  country.  A  puritan, 
of  Lincoln's  Inn,  wrote  and  published  a  work,  enti- 
tled "  The  Gulph  in  which  England  will  be  swal- 
lowed by  the  French  Marriage."  He  was  apprehend- 
ed, prosecuted,  and  condemned  to  lose  his  right  hand 
as  a  libeller.  Such,  however,  was  his  firmness  and 
loyalty,  that  immediately  after  the  sentence  was  exe- 
cuted, he  took  off  his  hat  with  his  other  hand,  and 
waving  it  over  his  head,  cried  "  God  save  the  Queen !" 


THE  RACE  OF  BOURBON. 


HENRY  THE  FOURTH. 

With  Henry  the  Third  the  race  of  Valois  became 
extinct;  and  with  Henry  the  Fourth  that  of  Bourbon 
commenced.  It  is  curious  that  the  families  of  Capet 
and  Valois  both  ended  by  the  succession  to  the  throne 
of  three  brothers,  who  all  died  without  leaving  heirs 
male.  Henry  the  Fourth  was  descended,  through 
nine  removes,  from  St.  Louis;    and  ascended   the 


130  BEAUTIES  OF 

throne  in  the  year  1589,  at  the  age  of  thirty-six.  He 
possessed  nearly  all  the  attributes  necessary  to  make 
a  great  and  good  king — a  warm  and  generous  heart, 
an  enlarged  and  sound  understanding,  great  prompti- 
tude, and  unwearied  activity,  and  a  prudence  and 
moderation  which  he  had  cultivated  in  the  school  of 
adversity,  both  in  the  court  and  camp.*  He  was 
bold  and  intrepid,  without  rashness ;  and  his  imagi- 
nation and  passions  were,  in  the  main,  restrained  by 
a  steady  judgment  and  a  sense  of  duty. 

Such  is  tlie  fair  side  of  the  picture  of  "Henri 
Quatre,"  which  the  historians  of  his  reign,  and  the 
immortal  Sully  in  particular,  have  painted,  and 
handed  down  to  posterity  :  and  so  far  it  is  just  and 
true.  But  unhappily  he  had  failings  where  female 
virtue  and  domestic  relations  were  concerned,  which 
it  would  be  desirable,  were  it  possible,  to  bury  in  ob- 
livion. They  not  only  injured  his  moral  character 
and  disturbed  his  domestic  peace,  but  frequently 
marred  his  public  and  political  prosperity.    Alas! 

*  When  king  of  Navarre,  Sully  received  a  letter  from  him, 
describing  the  state  of  absolute  poverty  in  which  he  then  was. 
"  I  am,  says  this  amiable  and  worthy  prince,  in  a  letter  to  me" 
— thus  writes  Sully — "very  near  my  enemies,  and  hardly  a 
horse  to  carry  me  into  the  battle,  nor  a  complete  suit  of  armour 
to  put  on  :  my  shirts  are  all  ragged,  my  doublets  out  at  elbow, 
my  kettle  is  seldom  on  the  fire,  and  these  two  last  days  I  have 
been  obliged  to  dine  where  I  could,  for  my  purveyors  have  in- 
formed me  that  they  have  not  wherewithal  to  furnish  my  ta- 
ble." 


FREiNCII   HISTORY.  131 

for  human  nature !  how  imperfect  is  it  even  in  the 
best  of  men ! 

At  a  very  early  age  he  gave  signs  of  the  future 
greatness  of  liis  character.  The  value  of  the  fruit 
was  betokened  by  the  excellence  of  the  flower.  An 
incident,  Avhich  happened  in  his  youth,  points  out 
the  spirit  with  which  he  perused  Plutarch,  and  the 
conclusions  he  drew  from  this  author.  Henry  was 
about  eleven  years  old ;  and  the  lives  of  Camillus 
and  Coriolanus  had  just  been  read  to  him.  La  Gauch- 
erie  (his  tutor)  asked  him  which  of  the  two  heroes 
he  wished  most  to  resemble.  The  young  prince, 
charmed  with  the  virtues  of  Camillus,  who  forgot  his 
revenge  to  save  his  country,  not  only  gave  him  the 
preference,  without  a  moment's  hesitation,  but  blamed 
the  wrath  of  Coriolanus,  who,  deaf  to  the  entreaties 
of  his  countrymen,  carried  fire  and  sword  into  his 
native  land,  to  satisfy  his  vengeance.  Repeating  the 
the  exploits  of  both  the  Romans,  Henry  extolled  the 
generosity  of  Camillus,  as  much  as  he  execrated  the 
crime  of  Coriolanus.  La  Gaucherie  seeing  him  thus 
inflamed,  said  to  him,  "  You  also  have  a  Coriolanus 
in  your  family ;"  and  related  to  him  the  history  of 
the  Constable  Bourbon,  telling  him  that  this  great, 
though  persecuted  man,  made  use  of  his  talents  to 
serve  the  cause  of  Charles  the  Fifth,  the  most  bitter 
enemy  of  his  king;  that  he  returned  to  his  own 
country  at  the  head  of  a  formidable  army,  carrying 
every  where  terror  and  desolation;   and,  in  short, 


132  BEAUTIES  OF 

that  his  implacable  hatred  and  fatal  success  were  al- 
most the  destruction  of  France.  During  this  recital 
the  young  prince  was  much  agitated,  rose  and  sat 
down  again,  walked  about  the  chamber,  stamped  with 
his  feet,  and  even  shed  tears  of  rage,  which  he  vahdy 
endeavoured  to  conceal ;  at  length,  unable  to  contain 
himself  any  longer,  he  seized  a  pen,  and  running  to 
a  genealogical  table  of  the  house  of  Bourbon,  that 
hung  up  in  the  room,  erased  the  name  of  the  con- 
stable, and  wrote  in  its  place  that  of  Chevalier 
Bayard. 

The  chief  and  almost  the  only  objection  to  Henry, 
on  the  part  of  the  great  majority  of  the  people  over 
whom  he  was  called  to  reign  was,  that  he  had  been 
educated  a  Protestant.  This  was  aggravated  by  what 
the  Catholics  called  a  relapse.  For,  being  on  a  visit 
to  the  court  of  France,  at  the  time  of  the  massacre 
of  St.  Bartholomew,  he  was  compelled  by  Charles  the 
Ninth,  as  the  only  chance  of  preserving  his  life,  to 
declare  himself  a  Catholic;  but  on  recovering  his 
liberty,  two  years  afterwards,  he  resumed  his  former 
religion,  and  became,  as  has  been  stated,  one  of  the 
leaders  of  the  reformed  armies. 

The  Huguenots,  on  whom  the  king  had  hitherto 
chiefly  depended,  were  now  comparatively  few,  and 
possessed  of  little  power.  He  was  therefore  under  the 
necessity  of  receiving  the  crown  at  the  hands  of  his 
Catholic  subjects,  and  compelled  to  consider  his 
Protestant  advisers  more  in  the    light  of  personal 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  133 

friends,  than  as  acknowledged  ministers  ;  from  whom, 
ahhough  he  honoured  and  loved  them  in  private,  he 
was  forced  in  public  to  withhold  that  appearance  of 
confidence  and  esteem  which  would  have  created 
dangerous  jealousy  on  the  part  of  their  rivals. 

Among  the  most  affectionate  of  his  friends,  the 
most  faithful  of  his  servants,  and  the  most  able  of  his 
Protestant  counsellors,  was  Rosny,  Duke  of  Sully, 
to  whom  posterity  is  indebted  for  the  principal  re- 
cords of  his  reign,  and  the  most  interesting  anecdotes 
of  his  private  character  and  court. 

The  leading  nobility  of  France  were,  like  the  mass 
of  the  people,  attached  to  the  Catholic  religion  ;  and 
almost  immediately  after  his  accession  the  Iving  found 
it  would  be  very  difficult,  if  not  totally  impossible, 
to  retain  his  throne,  should  circumstances  oppose 
them  to  his  government.  After  several  meetings  had 
been  held,  they  determined  to  support  him  on  one 
condition  onl}^,  viz.,  that  he  should  renounce  Cal- 
vinism, and  embrace  the  Romish  faith.  The  pro- 
position was  declined  by  Henry;  and,  by  the  con- 
nivance of  the  pope,  the  old  Cardinal  of  Bourbon,  his 
uncle,  was  proclaimed  under  the  title  of  Charles  the 
Tenth.  The  Duke  of  Mayenne  was  appointed  his 
lieutenant-general,  and,  at  the  head  of  a  very  supe- 
rior force,  proceeded  to  attack  Henry,  against  whom 
several  battles  were  fought.  In  one  of  them  the  king 
was  in  imminent  danger,  and  rallied  his  flying  troops 
by  lamenting,  with  a  loud  voice,  "  that  in  all  France 
12 


134  BEAUTIES   OF 

there  were  not  fifty  gentlemen  bold  enough  to  die 
with  their  sovereign."  This  exclamation  brought 
him  immediate  relief;  and  in  the  evening  after  the 
contest  had  ended,  Henry  gave  it  as  his  opinion, 
"  that  either  the  Duke  of  Mayenne  was  not  so  great 
a  soldier  as  had  been  supposed,  or  that  he  had  re- 
spectfully favoured  him  that  day,  and  reserved  him 
for  a  better  occasion." 

But  a  more  important  battle — the  battle  of  Ivry — 
was  fought  on  the  14th  March,  1590;  and  decided 
the  destiny  of  Henry  tlie  Fourth. 

Having  minutely  inspected  all  the  preparations  for 
the  encoimter,  the  king,  mounted  on  a  noble  bay 
courser,  took  las  station  in  the  centre  of  his  army ; 
and  with  an  undaunted  countenance,  yet  with  tears 
in  his  eyes,  reminded  all  those  Avho  could  hear  him, 
that  not  merely  his  crown,  but  their  own  safety,  de- 
pended on  the  issue  of  that  day.  Then,  joining  his 
hands,  and  lifting  up  his  eyes  to  heaven,  he  said 
aloud,  "  O  Lord,  tliou  knowest  all  things ;  if  it  be 
best  for  this  people  that  I  should  reign  over  them, 
favour  my  cause,  and  give  success  to  my  arms ;  but 
if  this  be  not  thy  will,  let  me  now  die  with  those 
who  endanger  themselves  for  my  sake."  A  solemn 
silence  and  profound  awe  was  in  an  instant  succeeded 
by  universal  shouts  of  "  Vive  le  Roi !"  throughout 
his   enthusiastic   soldiery.*     A   signal   victory  was 

*  One  account  states,  that  Henry  gave  notice  to  begin  the 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  135 

gained  by  Henry,  and  he  immediately  marched  to 
Paris,  with  a  view  to  reduce  that  city  to  obedience. 
Its  inhabitants,  at  that  time,  amounted  to  2,300,000, 
besides  the  garrison,  about  4000 ;  and  when  the  siege 
commenced,  they  had  not  provisions  to  last  them  a 
month.  Scarcity,  and  then  famine,  were  soon  felt ; 
every  species  of  animal  that  could  be  obtained  was 
devoured ;  nay,  it  is  said,  the  very  bones  of  the  dead 
were  dug  from  their  graves,  ground  into  a  sort  of 
flour,  and  formed  into  paste  for  bread  !  Pestilence,  as 
usual,  trod  in  the  steps  of  famine  ;  and  in  three  months 
12,000  persons  perished.  The  generous  king,  ima- 
gining he  might  gain  the  affections  of  the  besieged, 
sometimes  permitted,  and  sometimes  connived  at  the 
introduction  of  provisions ;  but  such  supplies  pro- 
duced a  contrary  effect  to  what  he  had  hoped,  and 
induced  the  citizens  still  to  hold  out,  until  the  siege 
was  raised  by  the  arrival  of  the  duke  of  Parma  to 
their  aid. 

Several  battles  were  subsequently  fought,  and,  on 
the  whole,  to  the  disadvantage  of  Henry,  who  carried 
on  the  war  under  the  ban  of  excommunication,  and 
with  the  greater  proportion  of  the  influential  nobles 
of  the  kingdom  opposed  to  him. 

The  following  account  given  by  Sully  of  the  cap- 
ture of  a  fort  during  the  war,  is  of  a  character  more 
than  commonly  romantic : 

battle,  in  these  characteristic  words :  "  You  are  Frenchmen- 
am  your  king — there  is  the  enemy." 


136  BEAUTIES  OP 

"The  manner  in  which  Feschamp  was  surprised 
is  so  remarkable,  that  it  well  deserves  a  particular  re- 
cital. When  this  fort  was  taken  by  Biron  from  the 
league,  there  was  in  the  garrison  that  was  turned  out 
of  it,  a  gentleman  called  Bois-rose,  a  man  of  sense  and 
courage,  who,  taking  exact  observation  of  the  place 
he  left,  and  having  concerted  his  scheme,  contrived 
to  get  two  soldiers,  whom  he  had  bound  to  his  in- 
terest, to  be  received  into  the  new  garrison  which 
was  put  into  Feschamp  by  the  royalists.  The  side 
of  the  fort  next  the  sea  is  a  perpendicular  rock,  600 
feet  high ;  the  bottom  of  which,  for  about  the  height 
of  twelve  feet,  is  continually  washed  by  it,  except  dur- 
ing four  or  five  days  in  the  year,  when  for  the  space 
of  three  or  four  hours,  it  leaves  fifteen  or  twenty 
fathom  of  dry  sand  at  the  foot  of  the  rock.  Bois-rose, 
finding  it  impossible  to  surprise,  in  any  other  way,  a 
garrison  who  guarded  with  great  care  a  place  lately 
taken,  did  not  doubt  of  accomplishing  his  design,  if 
he  could  enter  by  that  side  which  was  thought  inac- 
cessible. This  he  endeavoured,  by  the  following  con- 
trivance, to  perform.  He  had  agreed  upon  a  signal 
with  the  two  soldiers  he  had  corrupted,  one  of  whom 
waited  for  it  continually  upon  the  top  of  the  rock, 
where  he  posted  himself  during  the  whole  time  of 
low  water.  Bois-rose,  taking  the  opportunity  of  a 
very  dark  night,  brought  to  the  foot  of  the  rock,  in 
two  large  boats,  fifty  resolute  men,  chosen  from  among 
the  sailors ;  and  having  provided  himself  with  a  thick 


FRENCH  HISTORT.  137 

rope,  equal  in  length  to  tlic  height  of  tlie  rock,  he  tied 
knots  at  equal  distances,  and  run  short  sticks  through, 
to  support  the  men  as  they  climbed.  One  of  tlie  two 
soldiers  having  waited  six  months  for  the  signal,  no 
sooner  perceived  it,  than  he  let  down  a  cord  from 
the  top  of  the  precipice,  to  Avhich  those  below  fasten- 
ed the  cable,  and  by  this  means  it  was  wound  up  to 
the  top,  and  fastened  to  an  opening  in  the  battlement, 
with  a  strong  crow  run  through  an  iron  staple  made 
for  that  purpose.  Bois-rose,  intrusting  the  lead  to  two 
sergeants  of  whose  courage  he  was  Avell  convinced, 
ordered  the  fifty  men  to  mount  the  ladder,  one  after 
another,  with  their  weapons  tied  round  their  bodies; 
himself  bringing  up  the  rear,  to  prevent  all  hope  of  re- 
turning, which  indeed  soon  became  impracticable;  for 
before  they  had  ascended  halfway  the  sea  rising  more 
than  six  feet,  carried  ofl"  their  boats,  and  set  their  cable 
floating.  The  impossibility  of  withdrawing  from  a 
difficult  enterprise,  is  not  always  a  security  against 
fear,  when  the  danger  appears  almost  inevitable ;  and 
if  the  mind  represents  to  itself  these  fifty  men,  sus- 
pended between  heaven  and  earth,  in  the  midst  of 
darkness ;  trusting  their  safety  to  a  machine  so  inse- 
cure, that  the  least  want  of  caution,  the  treachery  of 
a  mercenary  associate,  or  the  slightest  fear,  might 
precipitate  them  into  the  abyss  of  the  sea,  or  dash 
them  against  the  rocks  ;  add  to  this  the  noise  of  the 
waves,  the  height  of  the  rock,  their  weariness  and 
exhausted  spirits — it  will  not  appear  surprising,  that 
12* 


138  BEAUTIES  OP 

the  boldest  amongst  them  trembled ;  as  in  effect  he 
who  was  foremost  did ;  this  sergeant  telling  the  next 
man  that  he  coidd  mount  no  higher,  and  that  his  heart 
failed  him.  Bois-rose,  to  whom  this  discourse  pass- 
ed from  mouth  to  mouth,  and  who  perceived  the  truth 
of  it  by  their  advancing  no  farther,  crept  over  the  bo- 
dies of  those  that  were  before  bun,  advising  each  to 
keep  firm,  and  got  up  to  the  foremost,  whose  spirits 
he  at  first  endeavoured  to  animate;  but  finding  gen- 
tleness unavailing,  he  obliged  him  to  mount  by  prick- 
ing his  back  with  a  poniard,  and  doubtless,  if  he  had 
not  obeyed  him,  would  have  precipitated  him  into 
the  sea.  At  length,  with  incredible  labour  and  fatigue, 
the  whole  troop  got  to  the  top  of  the  rock  a  little 
before  the  break  of  day,  and  was  introduced  by  the 
two  soldiers  into  the  castle,  where  they  slaughtered 
without  mercy  the  sentinels  and  the  Avhole  guard. 
Sleep  delivered  them  up  an  easy  prey  to  the  assail- 
ants, who  killed  all  that  resisted,  and  possessed  them- 
selves of  the  fort." 

But  to  return  to  Henry  the  Fourth :  under  cir- 
cumstances of  more  than  ordinary  difficult)'- — circum- 
stances, indeed,  that  rendered  his  life  unsafe  from  day 
to  day,  either  from  open  war,  or  the  dagger  of  the 
assassin,  and  influenced  by  the  representations  of  his 
most  tried  and  assured  friends,  the  king  resolved  to 
pursue  a  course  which,  however  politic  it  may  have 
been — however  necessary  it  might  have  become,  cer- 
tainly detracts  from  his  reputation,  and  tarnishes  his 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  139 

honour.  One  thing  is  certain — he  was  left  to  make 
his  election ;  to  decide  Avhether  he  would  change  his 
religion,  or  relinquish  his  crown.*  He  chose  the 
former,  and  the  25th  of  July,  1593,  was  the  day  ap- 
pointed for  receiving  him  openly  into  the  bosom  of 
the  church.  Early  in  the  morning,  he  proceeded, 
accompanied  by  a  large  concourse  of  noblemen  and 
knights,  and  a  vast  host  of  people,  to  the  church  of 
St.  Denis,  where  he  knocked  at  the  gate.  The  bishop 
of  Bourges,  in  his  pontificial  robes,  asked  who  he 
was,  and  what  he  wanted  ?  He  answered,  Henry, 
king  of  France  and  Navarre;  and  added,  that  he 
wished  to  be  admitted  into  the  Catholic  church. 
"  Do  you  desire  this  from  the  bottom  of  your  heart, 
and  have  you  truly  repented  of  all  your  errors  ?" 
demanded  the  bishop.  Henry  fell  on  his  knees, 
professed  his  penitence,  abjured  Protestantism,  and 
swore  todefend  the  Apostolic  Catholic  Church,  at  the 

*  So  implacable  was  the  hatred  of  the  Catholics  against  this 
monarch,  whom  they  accused  of  favouring  the  Huguenots,  that 
the  preachers  were  encouraged  to  go  to  any  length  in  insult- 
ing him.  One  of" them.  Father  Gonthieri,  indulged  in  such 
abusive  language  against  the  king,  even  in  his  presence,  that 
the  Marechal  d'Ornano  said  to  him,  if  he  had  been  in  Henry's 
place,  he  would  have  ordered  him  to  be  thrown  into  the  river.. 
A  capuchin,  preaching  at  Saumur,  and  explaining  the  passage 
in  which  it  is  said  the  bystanders  spat  in  our  Saviour's  face, 
exclaimed,  "  Who  think  you  these  were  ?  they  were  such  as 
those  who  maintain  the  heretics,  who  pay  their  ministers  wages, 
&c.  Yet  you  are  for  peace  with  them !— for  my  part  I  fear  no 
one;  I  am  for  war." 


140 


BEAUTIES  OP 


hazard  of  his  life.  He  was  then  seated  on  a  tempo 
rary  throne,  repeated  the  confession  of  faith,  high 
mass  was  celebrated ;  and  amid  the  roar  of  cannon 
the  "  converted"  king  withdrew.  The  Papal  abso- 
lution of  course  followed.  It  is  certain  that  this 
change  was  merely  nominal — a  stroke  of  policy  by 
Avhich  he  obtained,  or  at  least  secured,  the  kingdona 
of  France. 

The  articles  which  the  pope  required  him  to  accept 
and  swear  to  observe,  in  order  to  his  absolution,  on 
becoming  a  Catholic,  furnish  us  with  a  general  out- 
line of  the  spirit  of  popery  at  this  time  in  France. 
They  were  as  follows : 

That  he  should  be  subject  to  the  authority  and 
mandates  of  the  holy  see  and  the  Catholic  church ; 
that  he  should  abjure  Calvinism  and  all  other  here- 
sies, and  solemnly  profess  the  true  faith;  that  he 
should  restore  the  exercise  of  the  Catholic  religion 
in  Beam,  and  nominate  bishops  with  suitable  livings 
therein  without  delay,  that  he  should  endeavour 
to  rescue  the  Prince  of  Conde  from  the  influence  of 
heretics,  and  place  him  so  as  that  he  might  be  in- 
structed and  edified  in  the  Catholic  religion  ;  that  the 
concordats  should  be  henceforth  duly  observed ;  that 
no  heretic  should  be  nominated  to  any  Catholic  be- 
nefice ;  that  the  decrees  of  the  council  of  Trent  should 
be  published  and  observed;  that  ecclesiastics  should 
be  relieved  from  all  oppression,  and  defended  against 
all  iniquitous  and  violent  usurpations  ;  that  the  kinf 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  141 

should  SO  conduct  himself,  and  especially  in  confer- 
ring offices  and  honours,  as  to  show  that  he  uniformly 
esteemed  Catholics,  and  confided  in  them  in  prefer- 
ence to  others;  that  he  should  say  the  chaplet  of 
Notre  Dame  every  day,  the  litanies  on  Wednesday, 
the  rosary  of  Notre  Dame  on  Saturday,  should  ob- 
serve the  fasts  and  other  institutions  of  the  church, 
hear  mass  every  day,  and  high  mass  on  festival  days  ; 
and,  finally,  that  he  should  make  confession  and  com- 
municate in  public  four  times  at  least  every  year. 

On  the  26th  of  December,  1594,  an  attempt  was 
made  to  assassinate  the  king.  Being  at  Paris,  in  his 
apartments  in  the  Louvre,  where  he  gave  audience  to 
Messieurs  de  Ragny  and  de  Montigny,  who  entered, 
with  a  great  number  of  other  persons,  to  do  homage 
after  their  election  as  Knights  de  St.  Esprit,  Henry 
was  in  the  act  of  stooping  to  embrace  one  of  them, 
when  he  received  a  blow  in  the  face  from  a  knife, 
which  the  murderer  let  fall  as  he  was  endeavouring 
to  escape  through  the  crowd.  The  wound  was  at 
first  supposed  to  be  mortal ;  but  the  king  speedily 
removed  the  apprehensions  of  his  friends,  it  being 
immediately  perceived  that  his  lip  only  was  wounded ; 
for  the  stroke  having  been  ahned  too  high,  the  force 
of  it  was  stopped  by  a  tooth  which  it  broke.  The 
traitor  was  discovered  without  difficulty,  though  he 
dexterously  dropped  the  knife  and  mingled  among 
the  confused  attendants.  He  was  a  scholar,  named 
John  Chatel,  and  on  being  interrogated,  readily  an- 


142  BEAUTIES  OP         '■* 

swered,  that  he  came  from  the  college  of  Jesuits,  con- 
fessing that  those  fathers  were  the  instigators  of  the 
crime.  The  king  having  heard  him,  said,  with  a 
degree  of  gaiety  which  few  persons  could  have  as 
sumed  on  such  an  occasion,  "  he  had  heard  from  the 
mouths  of  many  persons  that  the  Society  never  loved 
him,  but  now  he  had  proof  of  it  from  his  ownP 
Chatel  was  delivered  up  to  justice  5  and  the  prosecu- 
tions against  the  Jesuits  which  had  been  suspended, 
Avere  renewed  with  greater  rigour  than  before,  and 
terminated  in  the  banishment  of  the  whole  order 
from  the  kingdom.  Father  John  Guignard  was  about 
this  time  hanged  for  his  pernicious  doctrines  against 
the  authority  and  life  of  kings. 

Chatel  was  put  to  death  by  the  most  excruciating 
tortures,  his  father  was  also  banished,  and  his  house 
razed  to  the  ground. 

By  the  treaty  of  Vervins,  in  1598,  and  the  edict 
of  Nantes,  which  granted  to  the  Huguenots  the  right 
of  public  worship  and  other  advantages,  the  realm  of 
France  was  alike  freed  from  external  and  internal 
Avar ;  and  the  king  had  leisure  to  supply  the  wants 
and  remedy  many  of  the  evils  that  oppressed  his  king- 
dom, so  long  the  prey  of  domestic  discord  and  fo- 
reign invasion.  His  discernment  in  the  choice  of 
ministers  was  peculiarly  happy.  His  chancellors, 
Chivergny  and  Bellievre ;  his  secretaries  of  state, 
Jeannin  and  Villeroi,  and  the  Baron  de  Rosny,  to 
whom  was  confided  the  management  of  the  finances, 


-•    FnE.VCII    HISTORY.  143 

were  men.  of  wisdom  and  integrity ;  and  under  their 
direction  his  people  began  to  flourish,  and  continued 
to  increase  in  happiness  and  prosperity. 

But  the  king's  excessive  devotion  to  female  society 
was  certainly  prejudicial  to  his  interests,  and  contri- 
buted materially  to  ruffle  the  even  current  of  his  life 
by  throwing  many  an  obstacle  in  its  way.  Sully 
lays  before  us  various  pictures  of  the  troubles  in 
which  this  dangerous  passion  involved  his  royal 
master :  one  may  perhaps  suflice  to  show,  that  true 
virtue  is  always  true  wisdom,  and  that  unlicensed 
pleasure  is  as  far  from  real  happiness,  as  the  smooth 
countenance  of  the  hypocrite  or  the  flatterer  is  from 
honest  integrity  and  genuine  worth. 

Henry's  love  for  Mademoiselle  D'Entragues,  Mar- 
chioness of  Vernueil,  was  one  of  those  unhappy  dis- 
eases of  the  mind,  which,  like  a  slow  poison,  preys 
upon  the  principles  of  life ;  for  the  heart,  attacked  in  its 
most  sensitive  part,  feels  indeed  the  whole  weight  of 
its  misfortune,  but  by  a  cruel  fatality  has  neither 
the  power  nor  the  inclination  to  free  itself  from 
the  thraldom  :  and  this  was  the  case  with  Henry,  who 
suffered  all  the  insolence,  and  caprices,  that  a  proud 
and  ambitious  woman  is  capable  of  inflicting.  The 
Marchioness  of  Vernueil  had  Avit  enough  to  discover 
the  power  she  had  over  the  king,  and  she  never  ex- 
erted it  but  to  torment  him  ;  so  that  they  seldom  met 
without  quarrelling.  The  queen,  having  been  in- 
formed that  the  king  had  given  this  lady  a  promise 


144  BEAUTIES  OP 

of  marriage  (under  the  expectation  of  a  divorce),  ne° 
ver  ceased  soliciting  him  to  regain  it  from  her.  In 
consequence  of  this,  Henry  demanded  it  of  the  mar- 
chioness, who,  upon  the  first  intimation  that  he  ex- 
pected it  to  be  resigned,  threw  herself  into  the  most 
violent  transport  of  rage  imaginable,  and  told  the 
king  imperiously  that  he  might  seek  it  elsewhere. 
Henry,  that  he  might  finish  at  once  all  the  harsh 
things  he  had  to  say  to  her,  began  to  reproach  her 
with  her  connexions  with  the  Count  d'Auvergne,  her 
brother,  and  the  malecontents  of  the  kingdom.  She 
would  not  condescend  to  clear  herself  of  this  im- 
puted crime ;  but,  assuming  in  her  turn  the  language 
of  resentment,  told  him  that  it  was  not  possible  to 
live  any  longer  with  him;  that  as  he  grew  old  he 
grew  jealous  and  suspicious;  and  that  she  would 
with  joy  break  off  a  correspondence  for  which  she 
had  been  too  ill  rewarded  to  find  any  thing  agreeable 
in  it,  and  which  rendered  her,  she  said,  the  object  of 
public  hatred.  She  carried  her  impudence  so  far  as 
to  speak  of  the  queen  in  such  contemptuous  terms, 
that,  if  we  may  believe  Henry,  he  was  upon  the  point 
of  striking  her ;  and,  that  he  might  not  be  forced  to 
commit  such  an  outrage  on  decency,  he  was  obliged 
to  quit  her  abruptly,  full  of  rage  and  vexation,  which 
he  was  at  no  pains  to  conceal,  and  swearing  he 
would  make  her  restore  the  promise  that  had  raised 
this  storm. 
This  scene  affords  a  more  usefiU  practical  lesson 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  145 

fiian  a  thousand  pages  could  possibly  give.  It  speaks 
for  itself,  and  needs  no  comment. 

Henry  certainly  hoped  for  more  from  the  fair  sex 
than  even  we  have  right  to  expect  in  modern  times, 
when  so  many  proofs  have  been  afforded  that  the 
"  soul  is  of  no  sex." 

"  That  I  may  not  repent,"  said  he  to  the  admirable 
Sully,  "  of  taking  so  dangerous  a  step,  nor  draw  upon 
myself  a  misfortune,  which  is  said  with  justice  to  ex- 
ceed all  others — that  of  having  a  wife  disagreeable  in 
person  and  mind — I  shall  require  in  her  I  marry  se- 
ven perfections;  beauty — prudence — softness — wit — 
faithfulness — riches — and  royal  birth  !"  No  wonder 
that  his  minister  added,  "  There  was  not  one  in  all 
Europe  with  whom  he  appeared  satisfied." 

The  Infanta  of  Spain  he  was  disposed  to  honour, 
if  with  her  he  could  have  married  the  Low  Coun- 
tries. With  Arabella  of  England  (daughter  of  Charles, 
earl  of  Lennox)  he  would  have  been  satisfied,  had 
she  possessed,  as  was  reported,  a  right  to  the  crown. 
To  the  German  princesses  he  felt  a  decided  objec- 
tion, comparing  them,  very  ungallantly,  to  "hogs- 
heads of  wine."  Some  of  the  princesses  of  France 
■were  too  brown ;  others  not  of  very  high  birth ;  many 
too  young;  while  others  were  declared  to  be  too  old. 
In  truth,  the  monarch  was  very  difiicult  to  please. 
But  about  this  period  he  became  so  infatuated  by  the 
arts  and  beauty  of  the  fair  Gabrielle  D'Estrees  (the 
13 


146  BEAUTIES  OF 

predecessor  of  the  Marchioness  of  Vernueil)  after- 
wards created  by  him  duchess  of  Beaufort,  that  she 
absolutely  aspired  to  share  his  crown.  Fortunately 
for  the  glory  of  his  name,  and  the  honour  of  France, 
the  steadiness  of  his  faithful  Sully  counteracted  her 
influence ;  although  it  was  not  until  after  her  death 
that  Henry  married  his  second  wife,  Mary  of  Medi- 
cis,  daughter  of  the  grand  duke  of  Florence, — an  ex- 
traordinary, but  ambitious  and  unamiable  woman,  and 
one  by  no  means  formed  by  nature  to  be  his  wife. 

Of  the  kindness,  cheerfulness,  benevolence,  gene- 
rosity, warmth  and  constancy  of  friendship,  integri-- 
ty,  and,  in  short,  of  nearly  all  the  virtues  that  render 
a  man  immortal  even  in  this  world,  the  historians  of 
Henry  the  Fourth  have  preserved  a  vast  number  of 
anecdotes.  The  following  are,  perhaps,  among  the 
most  interesting  and  characteristic. 

In  the  midst  of  his  family  he  was  no  longer  the 
king,  but  the  father  and  the  friend.  He  would  have 
his  children  call  him  "  Papa,"  or  "Father;"  and  not 
"  Sire,"  according  to  the  new  fashion  introduced  by 
Catherine  de  Medicis.  He  used  frequently  to  join  in 
their  amusements ;  and  one  day,  M'hen  the  great  mo- 
narch, the  restorer  of  France  and  the  peacemaker  of 
Europe,  was  playing  on  all  fours,  with  the  Dauphin, 
his  son,  on  his  back,  an  ambassador  suddenly  entered 
the  apartment  and  surprised  him  in  this  attitude.  The 
monarch,  without  moving  from  it,  said  to  him,  "  Mon- 
sieur I'Ambassadeur,  have  you  any  children  ?"  "Yes, 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  J.47 

sire,"  replied  he.  "  Very  well ;  then  I  shall  finish 
my  race  round  the  chamber." 

He  was  ever  ready  to  make  reparation,  when  the 
impetuosity  of  his  temper  had  led  him  for  a  moment 
to  be  unjust.  A  certain  colonel,  to  whom  he  was  at- 
tached, came  to  take  orders  previous  to  an  engage- 
ment, and  availed  himself  of  the  opportunity  to  re- 
quest payment  of  a  sum  which  was  due  to  him.  The 
king  hastily  told  him  it  was  unlike  a  man  of  honour 
to  ask  for  money  when  he  ought  to  have  been  attend- 
ing to  the  orders  for  battle.  Jiiimedialely  after,  when 
Henry  was  ranging  liis  troops,  he  went  up  to  the  of- 
ficer, and  said,  "  Colonel,  we  are  now  in  the  field — 
perhaps  we  shall  never  meet  again — it  is  not  just  that 
1  should  deprive  a  brave  gentleman  of  his  honour — I 
came  therefore  to  declare,  that  I  know  you  to  be  an 
honest  man,  and  incapable  of  committing  a  base  ac- 
tion." Saying  this,  he  embraced  him  with  great  af- 
fection. The  colonel  burst  into  tears,  and  replied — 
"  Oh,  sire,  in  restoring  to  me  my  honour,  you  have 
deprived  me  of  life — I  should  be  unworthy  of  your 
favour  did  I  not  this  day  sacrifice  it  on  this  field." 
He  fell  in  the  action. 

He  would  frequently  say,  "  I  daily  pray  to  God  for 
three  things :  first,  that  he  would  be  pleased  to  par- 
don my  enemies ;  secondly,  to  grant  me  the  victory 
over  my  passions,  and,  especially,  over  sensuality; 
end,  thirdly,  that  he  would  enable  me  to  make  a  right 


148  BEAUTIES  OF 

use  of  the  authority  he  has  given  me,  that  I  may  ne- 
ver abuse  it." 

He  had  not  only  a  piercing  and  strong  sight,  but  a 
very  quick  sense  of  liearing.  D'Aubigne  mentions 
an  example  of  the  latter  which  shows,  at  the  same 
time,  his  pleasant  humour,  and  the  familiar  manner 
in  which  he  lived  with  his  friends.  "  The  king,"  said 
he,  "  was  once  in  bed  at  La  Garnache,  in  a  large  state 
chamber,  and  his  bed  surrounded  with  curtains  and 
a  thick  frieze.  Frontenac  and  I  lay  in  an  opposite 
corner  of  the  same  room,  in  a  bed  enclosed  in  the 
same  manner ;  and  speaking  jocularly  of  the  king,  in 
as  low  a  voice  as  possible,  with  my  mouth  close  to 
his  ear,  Frontenac  repeatedly  told  me  he  could  not 
hear,  and  asked  what  I  said.  The  king  heard,  and 
reproached  him  for  his  deafness,  saying, '  D'Aubigne 
tells  you  that  I  want  to  make  two  friends  by  doing 
one  good  office.'  We  bade  him  fall  asleep,"  he  adds, 
"  for  that  we  had  a  great  deal  more  to  say  of  him." 

His  raillery,  ever  intended  in  good  humour,  was 
like  that  kind  of  wit  which  is  generally  agreeable, 
though  not  always  delicate  and  safe. — Going  to  the 
Louvre,  attended  by  a  number  of  noblemen,  he  asked 
a  poor  Avoman,  who  was  driving  her  cow,  what  was 
the  price  of  it;  and  on  offering  her  much  less  than 
its  value,  she  replied,  that  she  saw  he  was  no  dealer 
in  cows.  "  What  makes  you  think  so .'"'  said  the 
king.  "  Ventre  saint  Gris !  Don't  you  see  how  many 
calves  are  following  me  ?" 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  149 

When  his  gardener  complained  that  nothing  would 
grow  on  the  soil  at  Fontainbleau  ;  "  Friend,"  said  he, 
looking  at  the  duke  of  Epernon,  "  sow  it  with  Gas- 
cons ;  they  will  thrive  any  where." 

A  prelate  once  spoke  to  him  about  war,  and,  as  it 
may  be  imagined,  very  little  to  the  purpose.  Henry 
sudd.enly  interrupted  him,  by  asking  what  saint's  day 
that  was  in  his  breviary — a  stroke  which  pointed  out 
his  bad  rhetoric,  and  loaded  him  with  ridicule  for 
having  talked  of  war  before  Hannibal.  Jt  has  been 
said  that  his  tailor,  becoming  suddenly  a  lawyer,  was 
advised  to  present  to  the  king  a  book  of  regulations 
and  schemes  which  he  pretended  were  necessary  for 
the  good  of  the  nation :  Henry  took  it,  and  having 
perused  a  few  pages,  which  abundantly  proved  the 
folly  of  its  author ;  "  Friend,"  said  he,  to  one  of  his 
valets,  "  go,  and  bring  hither  my  chancellor  to  take 
measure  of  me  for  a  suit  of  clothes,  since  here  is  my 
tailor  wanting  to  make  laws." 

Henry  read  with  pleasure  all  that  was  published 
concerning  his  operations;  for  during  his  reign  every 
one  enjoyed  the  liberty  of  speaking,  writing,  and 
printing  his  opinion ;  and  truth,  which  he  sought  after 
continually,  came  in  its  turn  even  to  the  throne  to  seek 
him.  One  of  the  greatest  compliments  that  can  be 
paid  a  king  is  to  believe  him  willing  to  listen  to  the 
voice  of  truth.  It  was  a  long  time  ago  said,  that  un- 
bappy  must  be  the  reign  where  the  historian  of  it  is 
13* 


150  BEAUTIES  OF 

obliged  to  conceal  Lis  name.  L'Etoile  relates,  that 
Henry  having  read  a  book  called  The  Anti-Soldier^ 
asked  his  secretary  of  state,  Villeroi,  if  he  had  seen 
this  work ;  and  upon  his  replying  in  the  negative, — 
"  It  is  right  you  shoidd  see  it,"  continued  he,  "for  it 
is  a  book  which  takes  me  finely  to  task,  but  is  still 
more  severe  on  you."  He  was  once  desired  to  punish 
an  autlior  who  had  written  some  free  satires  on  the 
court.  "  It  would  be  against  my  conscience,"  said  the 
good  prince,  '•  to  trouble  an  honest  man  for  having 
told  the  truth." 

Henry  frequently  amused  himself  with  hunting. 
On  one  occasion,  while  he  was  eager  in  the  chase,  he 
suddenly  heard  a  great  noise  of  sportsmen  and  dogs 
at  a  distance,  and  expressed  much  displeasure  at  the 
liberty  which  those  persons,  whoever  they  might  be, 
were  taking  in  his  forest  by  interfering  with  his  pas- 
time. Soon  the  clamour  became  more  distinct,  and 
within  a  few  paces  of  him  and  his  attendants  they 
saw  a  black  fellow,  whose  huge  appearance  and  figure 
astonished  and  overawed  them :  with  a  hoarse  and 
frightful  voice  he  cried,  M''attendez  vous,  attend  me ; 
M'cntendez  vous,  hear  me;  or,  Amendez  vous,  reform 
yourself — and  vanished,  for  neither  the  king  nor  those 
who  were  with  him  were  certain  of  the  words.  The 
■woodcutters  and  peasants  assured  them  that  this  was 
a  frequent  visiter,  whom  they  called  the  "Grand 
Hunter,"  and  to  whom  they  were  accustomed, — 
though  they  could  account  for  neither  his  appearance 


FRENCH   HISTORT.  151 

or  disappearance,  nor  for  tlie  great  noise  of  men  and 
dogs  which  invariably  accompanied  him. 

Henry  pressed  De  Thou  to  publish  his  history, 
and  took  this  excellent  work  under  his  own  protec- 
tion :  silencing  the  cabals  and  clamours  of  the  cour- 
tiers and  priests  against  it.  "  It  is  I,"  said  this  prince, 
in  a  letter  he  wrote  on  the  subject  to  his  ambassador 
at  Rome,  "  it  is  I  that  have  given  orders  for  its  pub- 
lication and  sale."  He  regarded  the  work  as  a  monu- 
ment of  genius  raised  on  the  altar  of  veracity. 

His  observation  to  a  Spanish  ambassador  deserves  to 
be  recorded.  Being  surrounded  and  pressed  upon  by 
his  officers  at  court,  the  proud  Spaniard  was  shocked 
at  so  much  familiarity.  "You  see  nothing  here," 
said  the  king ;  "  they  press  upon  me  much  more  in 
the  day  of  battle." 

"  If  I  were  desirous,"  he  once  remarked  on  the 
opening  of  parliament,  "  to  pass  for  an  elaborate  ora- 
tor, I  would  have  introduced  more  fine  words  here 
than  good  will :  but  my  ambition  aims  at  something 
higher  than  to  speak  well." 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  that  a  king  so  beloved 
was  frequently  wearied  by  the  compliments  bestowed 
on  him  by  his  subjects.  Sully  mentions  that  in  one 
of  his  tours  through  the  provinces,  he  was  tempted 
to  take  by-roads  to  avoid  the  long  speeches  of  his 
"  faithful  people,"  one  of  whom  hailing  him  with  a 
repetition  of  such  titles  as  "  Most  great,  most  benign, 
most  merciful  king,  &c."     "Add,  also,"  said  Henry, 


152  BEAUTIES   OF 

impatiently,  "  most  weary."  Having  twice  told  an- 
other provincial  orator,  that  he  really  must  shorten 
his  speech,  which  the  worthy  man  was  not  at  all  in- 
clined to  do ;  he  hastily  rose  up,  observing,  as  he 
quitted  the  room,  "  You  must  say  the  rest,  then,  to 
Mr.  William," — the  court  jester,  who,  in  conformity 
with  the  usage  of  the  times,  always  accompanied 
him. 

The  king,  while  residing  at  Fontainbleau,  was  one 
day,  in  the  ardour  of  the  chase,  left  at  some  distance 
from  his  courtiers  and  attendants:  a  countryman, 
sitting  at  the  foot  of  a  tree,  his  chin  resting  on  his 
stick,  accosted  the  king,  who  Avas  passing  near  him, 
with  these  words,  "  Do  you  think,  sir,  there  is  anv 
chance  of  our  good  king  Henry's  passing  this  way  > 
I  have  walked  twenty  miles  to  see  him."  "  Why, 
there  is  some  chance,"  said  Henry,  "but  if  you  could 
go  to  Fontainbleau  you  would  be  certain  of  seeing 
him  there."  "Ah,"  said  the  old  man,  "  but  I  am  so 
weary."  "  Well,  then,"  said  his  majesty,  "  get  on 
my  horse,  behind  me,  I  will  take  you  towards  it." 
The  countryman  accordingly  mounted,  and,  after 
riding  some  way,  asked  the  king  how  he  should 
know  his  majesty  from  his  courtiers  ?  "  Easily 
enough,"  replied  the  king,  "  his  majesty  will  wear 
his  hat,  his  courtiers  will  be  bare-headed."  This  sa- 
tisfied him,  and  soon  after  they  met  the  attendants, 
who,  immediately  taking  off  their  hats,  his  majesty 
jumping  off  his  horse,  turns  round  to  the  astonished 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  153 

oountryman.  "  Truly,  sir,"  said  the  fellow,  "  either 
you  or  I  must  be  the  king !" 

The  duke  of  Epernon,  colonel-general  of  France, 
governor  of  Guicnne,  &c.,  died  in  1644,  aged  eighty- 
eight.  He  was  the  oldest  duke  and  peer  of  France, 
an  officer  of  the  crown  of  the  longest  standing,  ge- 
neral of  an  army,  governor  of  a  province,  knight  of 
every  order,  and  counsellor  of  state.  He  was  called 
the  king's  wardrobe,  because  of  the  great  number  of 
posts  he  held  in  his  household.  There  is  recorded 
a  very  fine  answer  of  his  to  Henry  the  Fourth,  who 
one  day  in  anger  reproached  him  with  not  loving  him. 
The  duke,  without  being  surprised  at  the  king's  rage, 
answered  coolly,  but  with  great  gravity,  "  Sire,  your 
Majesty  has  not  a  more  faithful  servant  than  myself 
in  the  kingdom.  I  would  rather  die  than  fail  in  the 
least  part  of  my  duty  to  you ;  but.  Sire,  as  for  friend- 
ship, your  Majesty  well  knows  that  is  only  to  be 
acquired  by  friendship."  The  king  happily  knew 
how  to  admire  great  sentiments,  as  Avell  as  great  ac- 
tions ;  and  his  indignation  was  converted  into  esteem. 

But  the  best  and  greatest  of  monarchs,  as  well  as 
the  meanest  of  his  subjects,  must  in  time  submit  to 
the  mandate  of  a  greater  king  than  he.  Death  cannot 
be  bribed  by  riches  nor  awed  by  power ;  and  Henry 
the  Fourth  was  summoned  to  follow  his  predecessors 
to  the  grave,  long  before,  according  to  the  ordinary 
course  of  nature,  his  people  might  have  looked  for 
this  even^,  or  been  satisfied  that  it  was  time  for  him 


154  BEAUTIES  OF 

to  throw  off  the  cares  of  government,  rid  himself  of 
the  troubles  and  anxieties  of  life,  and  be  at  rest. 

The  narrative  of  his  death  is  a  more  than  usually 
sad  one,  and  has  been  detailed  with  minute  accuracy 
by  several  historians,  and  only  differing  in  some  minor 
points :  it  took  place  on  the  ]4lh  of  i\Iay,  1610. 

Francis  Kavaillac,  a  native  of  Angouleme,  of  low 
birth,  educated  a  monk,  by  profession  a  schoolmaster, 
and  afterwards  a  solicitor  or  inferior  law-agent,  had 
come  to  Paris,  for  what  end  is  not  clearly  ascertained. 
Under  a  religious  melancholy  zeal  for  the  old  or  new 
league,  and  being  without  any  associates,  he  might 
either  have  devised  the  plot  himself,  and  come  of 
his  OAvn  accord  to  execute  it ;  or  been  inveigled  into 
it  by  wicked  and  designing  men,  who  had  discerned 
the  fitness  of  his  temper  for  their  plan :  but  being  re- 
pulsed in  his  first  attempt  to  reach  the  king's  person, 
he  returned  again  to  Angouleme.  Here,  however,  he 
was  unable  to  rest :  and  animated  by  zeal,  by  frenzy, 
or  by  whatever  cause,  internal  or  external,  he  came 
back  to  Paris  to  perpetrate  the  execrable  deed. 

In  the  afternoon,  about  four  o'clock,  of  the  14th, 
agitated  and  sleepless,  the  king,  hoping  to  find  more 
rest  for  his  mind  in  the  activity  of  his  body,  pro- 
posed to  visit  Sully  at  the  arsenal,  and  to  see,  as  he 
passed,  the  preparations  making  at  the  Bridge  of 
Notre  Dame  and  at  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  for  the  cere- 
mony of  the  queen's  entry  into  the  city,  which  was 
to  take  place  the  next  day.     In  the  coach  went  with 


FRENCri  HISTORY.  155 

him  from  the  Louvre,  the  Duke  of  Epernon,  wlio  sat 
on  the  same  side  with  him,  and  the  Duke  de  Moiitba- 
zon  the  Maresclial  de  Lavardiii,  Roquelaine  la  Force, 
Mirabeau,  and  Liancour.  The  carriage  passing  from 
the  street  St.  Honore  into  that  of  Ferronerie,  was  pre- 
vented from  proceeding  by  a  cart  on  the  right  loaded 
with  wine,  and  one  on  the  left  loaded  with  hay.  The 
attendants  on  foot  went  forward  by  another  passage, 
intending  to  be  ready  to  join  it  as  soon  as  the  carts 
had  moved.  Ravaillac,  ever  on  the  watch,  seized  this 
moment :  he  observed  the  position  of  the  king ;  and 
mounting  on  the  hind  wheel,  with  his  knife  struck 
him  on  the  left  side,  a  little  below  the  heart.  His 
majesty  had  just  then  turned  towards  the  Duke 
d'Epernon,  and  was  reading  a  letter ;  when,  feeling 
himself  struck  he  exclaimed, ''  I  am  wounded  !  "  At 
the  same  instant  tlie  assassin,  perceiving  that  the  point 
of  his  knife  had  been  stopped  by  a  rib,  repeated  tlie 
blow  with  such  quickness,  that  not  one  of  those  who 
were  in  the  coach  had  time  to  oppose  or  even  to 
notice  it.  After  the  second  stroke,  which  pierced  the 
heart,  the  blood  guslied  from  his  side  and  mouth,  and 
the  king  expired,  murmuring,  it  is  said,  in  a  faint 
and  dying  voice,  "  It  is  nothing."  The  murderer 
aimed  a  third  stab,  which  the  Duke  d'Epernon  re- 
ceived in  his  sleeve. 

The  lords  who  were  in  the  coach  got  out  instant- 
ly, but  with  such  precipitation,  that  they  hindered 
each  other  from  seizing  the  regicide:  who,  however, 


156  BEAUTIES  OF 

glorying  in  the  infernal  deed,  stood,  uncovered,  osten- 
tatiously brandishing  the  reeking  knife  in  his  hand. 

The  death  of  their  beloved  monarch  was  for  many 
hours  concealed  from  his  people,  who  were  led  to 
believe  that  he  was  only  wounded.  But  when  it  was 
known  throughout  Paris  that  he  was  certainly  dead, 
the  whole  city  presented  a  scene  of  which  it  is  im- 
possible for  language  to  give  an  adequate  description; 
some  became  insensible  through  grief;  others  ran  fran- 
tic about  the  streets  ;  and  it  appeared  as  if  every  living 
being  within  its  walls  had  suffered  the  severest  do- 
mestic calamity — as  if  some  child  or  parent  had  been 
torn  frorp  the  heart  of  each  family — so  universal  and 
deep  was  the  mourning  for  the  king,  who  was,  in 
truth,  "  the  father  of  his  people." 

Such  was  the  fate  of  Henry  the  Fourth,  in  later 
times  denominated  the  Great — in  the  fifty-eighth  year 
of  his  age,  the  thirty-eighth  of  his  reign  as  King  of 
Navarre,  and  the  twenty-first  as  King  of  France. 
By  his  first  wife,  Margaret  of  Valois,  he  had  no  chil- 
dren ;  by  his  second,  Mary  de  Medicis,  he  left  three 
sons  and  three  daughters. 

The  dreadful  scene  that  followed  the  murder  of  the 
king,  is  recorded  as  one  of  the  most  horrible  cases  of 
punishment  that  was  ever  inflicted  by  a  judicial  court 
upon  any  human  being — however  heinous  his  guilt. 

On  the  17th  of  May,  the  trial  of  Francis  Ravaillac 
commenced :  the  great  object  of  his  judges  was  to  in- 
duce him  to  confess  who  were  his  accomplices — as 


FRENCH   HISTORY.  ]  57 

it  was  generally  believed,  tliat  tliere  were  many  impli- 
cated in  the  murder.  Suspicion  rested  chiefly  on  the 
Jesuits.  To  the  very  last,  however,  the  assassin  per- 
sisted in  declaring  that  he  had  neither  counsellor  nor 
abettors  in  the  crime — that  he  committed  it  without 
communicating  his  intention  to  any  one — that  he  did 
it  because  he  had  heard  the  king  intended  to  engage 
in  a  war  against  the.  Pope,  and  because  he  conceived 
himself  called  by  Omnipotence  to  remove  him  out 
of  the  way  of  the  Catholics. 

On  the  27th  of  May,  the  court  met  and  issued  the 
following  order : 

"We,  the  presidents  and  several  of  the  councillors 
being  present,  the  prisoner  Francis  Ravaillac  was 
brought  into  court,  Avho  having  been  accused  and 
convicted  of  the  murder  of  the  late  king,  he  was  or- 
dered to  kneel,  and  the  clerk  of  the  court  pronoun- 
ced the  sentence  of  death  upon  him,  as  likewise  that 
he  should  be  put  to  the  torture,  to  force  him  to  de- 
clare his  accomplices ;  and  his  oath  being  taken,  he 
was  exhorted  to  redeem  himself  from  the  torments 
preparing  for  him,  by  acknowledging  the  truth,  and 
declaring  who  those  persons  were  that  had  persua- 
ded, prompted,  and  abetted  him  in  that  most  wicked 
action,  and  to  whom  he  had  disclosed  his  intention  of 
committing  it." 

He  said,  "  By  the  salvation  1  hope  for,  no  one  but 
myself  was  concerned  in  this  action."  He  was  then 
ordered  to  be  put  to  the  torture  of  brodequin.  On 
14 


158  BEAUTIES  OF 

the  first  wedge  being  driven,  he  cried  out,  "  God  have 
mercy  upon  my  soul,  and  pardon  the  crime  I  have 
committed  !  1  never  disclosed  my  intentions  to  any 
one."  This  he  repeated  as  he  had  done  in  his  inter- 
rogation. When  the  second  wedge  was  inserted,  he 
vociferated,  with  loud  cries  and  shrieks,  "  I  am  a 
sinner ;  I  know  no  more  than  I  have  declared  by  the 
oath  I  have  taken,  and  by  the  truth  which  I  owe  to 
God  and  to  the  court.  I  beseech  the  court  not  to 
force  my  soul  to  despair."  The  executioner  continu- 
ing to  drive  the  second  wedge,  he  exclaimed,  "  My  . 
God,  receive  this  penance  as  an  expiation  for  the 
crimes  I  have  committed  in  the  world  I  Oh  God!  ac- 
cept these  torments  in  satisfaction  for  my  sins !  By 
the  faith  I  owe  to  God,  I  know  no  more  than  what 
I  have  declared.  Oh!  do  not  force  my  soul  to 
despair!"  The  third  wedge  was  then  driven  lower, 
near  his  feet,  at  which  a  universal  sweat  covered  his 
body,  and  he  fainted  away.  The  executioner  put 
some  wine  into  his  mouth,  but  he  could  not  swallow 
it;  and  being  quite  speechless,  he  was  released  from 
the  torture,  and  water  thrown  upon  his  face  and  hands. 

He  soon  recovered,  and  was  led  out  to  execution, 
amid  the  execrations  of  the  enraged  populace,  who 
would  have  torn  him  in  pieces,  if  he  had  not  been 
protected  by  a  large  guard.  On  the  scaffold  the  tor- 
tures again  commenced. 

On  the  fire  being  put  to  his  right  hand,  holding 
the  knife  with  which  he  had  stabbed  the  king,  he 


FRENCH  HISTORY  ]/)9 

cried  out,  "  Oh,  God .""'  and  often  repeated,  "  Jesu 
Marie  !"  While  his  breast.  Sec,  were  being  torn  with 
red-hot  pincers,  he  renewed  his  cries  and  prayers ; 
during  which,  though  often  admonished  to  acknow- 
ledge the  truth,  he  persisted  in  denying  tliat  he  had 
any  accomplices.  The  furious  crowd  continued  to 
load  him  with  execrations,  saying,  that  he  ouglit  not 
to  have  a  moment's  respite  :  afterwards,  melted  lead 
and  scalding  oil  were,  in  turn,  poured  upon  his 
wounds,  which  made  him  shriek  aloud,  and  pour 
forth  doleful  cries  and  exclamations. 

He  was  then  drawn  by  four  horses  for  half  an 
hour,  at  intervals.  Being  again  questioned  and  ad- 
monished, he  persisted  in  denying  that  he  had  any 
accomplices ;  while  the  people  of  all  ranks  and  de- 
grees, both  near  and  at  a  distance,  continued  their 
exclamations,  in  token  of  their  grief  for  the  loss  of 
the  king.  Several  persons  set  themselves  to  pull  the 
ropes  with  the  utmost  eagerness ;  and  one  of  the  no- 
blesse, who  was  near  the  criminal,  alighted  from  his 
horse,  that  it  might  be  put  in  the  place  of  one  that 
was  tired  with  pulling.  At  length,  when  he  had  been 
drawn  for  a  full  hour  by  the  horses  without  being  dis- 
membered, die  people,  rushing  on  in  crowds,  threw 
themselves  upon  him,  and  with  swords,  knives,  sticks, 
and  other  weapons,  they  struck,  tore,  and  mangled 
his  limbs,  and  violently  forcing  them  from  the  exe- 
cutioner, dragged  them  through  the  streets  with  the 


160  BEAUTIES  OF 

greatest  rage,  and  burnt  them  in  diiTerent  parts  of  the 
city. 

From  this  horrid  scene  the  reader  will  turn  with 
disgust.  It  is,  however,  well  to  preserve  it,  in  order 
to  show  how  completely  justice  may  sometimes  act 
the  part  of  a  butcher,  and  forget  decency,  in  the  de- 
sire to  satiate  vengeance.  The  case  is  almost  with- 
out parallel,  and  must  be  regarded  as  a  blot  upon  the 
page  of  history,  which  neither  provocation  nor  po- 
licy could  ever  justify. 

By  those  who  knew  him  best,  Henry  the  Fourth 
was  most  beloved.  The  able  and  excellent  Sully, 
who,  on  account  of  his  religion,  could  not  be  admit- 
ted into  any  order,  instituted  one  for  himself.  He 
wore  about  his  neck,  and  more  especially  after  the 
death  of  Henry  the  Fourth,  a  chain  of  gold  or  dia- 
monds, to  which  was  suspended  a  large  gold  medal, 
exhibiting  in  relievo  the  figure  of  that  great  prince. 
He  used  often  to  take  it  out  of  his  bosom,  stop  and 
contemplate  it,  and  then  kiss  it  with  the  utmost  re- 
verence, and  he  always  carried  it  about  his  person 
while  he  lived. 

Sully  records  an  extraordinary  instance  of  the 
union  of  amazing  talents  with  as  amazing  depravity. 
"  Old  Servin  (a  nobleman  of  the  court)  came  to  me," 
he  writes,  "  and  presented  his  son,  begging  that  I 
would  use  my  endeavours  to  make  him  a  man  of 
some  worth  and  honesty;  but  he  confessed  it  was 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  161 

wliat  he  dared  not  liope ;  not  through  any  want  of 
understanding  or  capacity  in  the  youth,  but  from  his 
natural  inchnation  to  all  kinds  of  vice.  His  father 
was  in  the  right.  What  he  told  me,  having  excited 
my  curiosity  to  gain  a  thorough  knowledge  of  young 
Servin,  I  found  him  to  be  at  once  both  a  wonder  and 
-i  monster;  for  I  can  give  no  other  name  to  that  as- 
semblage of  the  most  excellent  and  most  pernicious 
qualities  united  in  him.  Let  the  reader  represent  to 
himself  a  man  of  a  genius  so  lively,  and  an  under- 
standing so  extensive,  as  rendered  him  scarcely  igno- 
rant of  any  diing  that  could  be  known ;  of  so  vast 
and  ready  a  comprehension,  that  he  immediately 
made  himself  master  of  whatever  he  attempted ;  and 
of  so  prodigious  a  memory,  that  he  never  forgot  what 
he  had  once  learned.  He  possessed  a  knowledge  of 
philosophy  and  the  mathematics,  particularly  fortifi- 
cation and  drawing.  Even  in  theology,  he  was  so 
well  skilled,  that  he  was  an  excellent  preacher,  when- 
ever he  had  a  mind  to  exert  that  talent,  and  an  able 
disputant  either  for  or  against  the  reformed  religion. 
He  not  only  understood  Greek,  Hebrew,  and  all  the 
languages  which  we  call  learned,  but  also  all  the  dif- 
ferent jargons,  or  modern  dialects ;  wdiich  latter 
tongues  he  accented  and  pronounced  so  naturally, 
and  so  perfecdy  imitated  the  gestures  and  manners 
both  of  the  several  nations  of  Europe,  and  the  parti- 
cular provinces  of  France,  that  he  might  have  l^een 
taken  for  a  native  of  all  or  any  of  these  countries ; 
14* 


162  BEAUTIES  OP 

and  this  quality  he  applied  to  counterfeit  all  sorts  of 
persons,  wherein  he  succeeded  wonderfully.  He  was, 
moreover,  the  best  comedian  and  greatest  droll  that 
perhaps  ever  appeared ;  he  had  a  genius  for  poetry, 
and  had  written  many  verses ;  he  played  upon  almost 
all  instruments,  was  a  perfect  master  of  music,  and 
sung  most  agreeably  and  justly :  he  likewise  could 
say  mass — for  he  was  of  a  disposition  to  do  as  well 
as  to  know  all  things.  His  body  was  perfectly  well 
suited  to  his  mind  :  he  was  light,  nimble,  dexterous, 
and  fit  for  all  exercises  ;  he  could  ride  well  •,  and  in 
dancing,  wrestling,  and  leaping,  he  was  admired ; 
there  are  not  any  recreative  games  that  he  did  not 
know,  and  he  Avas  skilled  in  almost  all  mechanic  arts. 
But  now  for  the  reverse  of  the  medal.  Here  it  ap- 
peared that  he  was  treacherous,  cruel,  cowardly,  de- 
ceitful ;  a  liar,  a  cheat,  a  drunkard,  and  a  glutton ;  a 
sharper  in  play,  immersed  in  every  species  of  crime; 
a  blasphemer,  an  atheist;  in  a  word,  in  him  might  be 
found  all  the  vices  contrary  to  nature,  honour,  reli- 
gion, and  society;  the  truth  of  which  he  himself 
evinced  with  his  last  breath ;  for  he  died  in  the  flower 
of  his  age,  wholly  corrupted  by  his  debaucheries, 
and  with  the  glass  in  his  hand,  cursing  and  denying 
God." 

Another  anecdote,  of  a  very  different  nature,  Sully 
relates  of  himself 

"  Entering  one  day,"  he  says,  "  without  any  at- 
tendants, into  a  very  large  chamber,  I  found  a  man 


FRENCH  HISTORT.  163 

walking  about  it  very  fast,  and  so  absorbed  in  thought, 
that  he  neither  sahited  me,  nor,  as  I  imagine,  per- 
ceived me.  Observing  him  more  attentively,  every 
thing  in  his  person,  his  manner,  his  countenance,  and 
his  dress,  appeared  to  me  to  be  very  uncommon.  His 
body  was  long  and  slender  5  his  face  thin  and  with- 
ered ;  his  beard  white  and  forked  ;  he  had  on  a  large 
hat  which  covered  his  face ;  a  cloak  buttoned  close 
at  the  collar ;  boots  of  an  enormous  size ;  a  SMord 
trailing  on  the  ground ;  and  in  his  hand  he  held  a 
large  double  bag  like  those  that  are  tied  to  saddle- 
bows. I  asked  him,  in  a  raised  tone  of  voice,  if  he 
lodged  in  that  room,  and  why  he  seemed  in  such  a 
profound  contemplation.  Affronted  at  the  question, 
without  saluting  me,  or  even  deigning  to  look  at  me, 
he  answered  me  rudely,  that  he  was  in  his  own 
apartment,  and  that  he  was  thinking  of  his  aflairs,  as 
T  might  do  of  mine.  Although  I  was  a  little  sur- 
prised at  his  impertinence,  I,  nevertheless,  requested 
him  very  civilly  to  permit  me  to  dine  in  the  room ; 
a  proposal  Avhich  he  received  with  grumbling,  and 
which  was  followed  by  a  refusal  still  less  polite. 
That  moment,  three  of  my  gentlemen  pages,  and 
some  footmen,  entering  the  chamber,  mv  brutal  com- 
panion thought  fit  to  soften  his  looks  and  words, 
pulled  off  his  hat,  and  offered  me  every  thing  in  his 
power.  Then  suddenly  eyeing  me  with  a  fixed  look, 
asked  me,  with  a  wild  air,  where  I  was  going  ?  I 
told  him,  to  meet  tlie  king.     '  What,  sir !'  he  replied, 


164  BEAUTIES  or 

*  has  the  king  sent  for  you  ?  Pray  tell  me  on  what 
day  and  hour  you  received  his  letters,  and  also  at 
what  hour  you  set  out  ?'  It  was  not  difficult  to  dis- 
cover an  astrologer  by  tliese  questions,  which  he 
asked  me  with  invincible  gravity.  I  was  farther 
obliged  to  tell  him  my  age,  and  to  allow  him  to  ex- 
amine my  hands.  After  all  these  ceremonies  were 
over ;  '  Sir,'  said  he,  with  an  air  of  surprise  and  re- 
spect, '  I  will  resign  my  chamber  to  you  very  wil- 
lingly ;  and,  before  long,  many  others  will  leave  their 
places  to  you  less  cheerfully  than  I  do  mine.'  The 
more  I  pretended  to  be  astonished  at  his  great  abili- 
ties, the  more  he  endeavoured  to  give  me  proofs  of 
them — promising  me  riches,  honours,  and  power." 
Theastrologer  then  withdrew;  and  our  author  heard, 
or  at  least  says,  nothing  farther  about  him. 

The  annexed  illustrates  Sully's  own  character. 
"  One  day,"  he  observes,  "  when  a  very  fine  ballet 
was  representing  at  the  theatre,  I  perceived  a  man 
leading  in  a  lady,  with  whom  he  was  preparing  to 
enter  one  of  the  galleries  set  apart  exclusively  for 
females.  He  was  a  foreigner  •,  and  I  easily  distin- 
guished of  what  country,  by  the  swarthy  colour  of 
his  skin.  '  Monsieur,'  said  I  to  him,  'you  m.ust  seek 
for  another  door,  if  you  please ;  for  I  do  not  imagine 
that  with  such  a  complexion  you  can  hope  to  pass  for  a 
fair  lady.'  '  My  lord,'  answered  he,  in  very  bad  French, 

*  when  you  know  who  I  am,  J  am  persuaded  you 
will  not  refuse  to  let  me  sit  among  those  fair  ladies; 


FRENCH    HISTORY.  165 

since,  swarthy  as  I  am,  my  name  is  Pimentel ;  I  have 
the  honour  to  be  very  well  acquainted  with  his  ma- 
jesty, wlio  often  plays  with  me.'  This  was  indeed, 
too  true ;  for  this  man,  whom  I  had  already  heard 
often  mentioned,  had  gained  immense  sums  from  the 
king.  '  How  !  ventre  de  ma  vie  !  said  I  to  him,*'  af- 
fecting to  be  extremely  angry,  'you  are  then  that  fat 
Portuguese  who  every  day  wins  the  king's  money .' 
Pardieu !  you  are  come  to  a  bad  place ;  for  I  neit!;er 
like,  nor  will  suffer  such  people  to  be  here.'  He  at- 
tempted to  speak,  but  I  would  not  listen  to  him.  '  Go, 
go,'  said  I,  pushing  him  back,  '  you  shall  not  enter 
here  ;  I  am  not  to  be  prevailed  upon  by  your  gibber- 
ish.' The  king  afterwards  asked  him  how  he  liked 
the  ballet,  saying,  he  thouglit  it  was  very  fine,  and  the 
dancing  exquisite.  Pimentel  told  him  he  had  a  great 
inclination  to  see  it,  but  that  he  met  his  grand  finan- 
cier, with  his  negative  front,  at  the  door,  who  turned 
him  back.  He  then  related  his  adventure  with  me ; 
at  which  his  majesty  was  extremely  pleased,  and 
laughed  at  his  manner  of  telling  it;  nor  did  he  after- 
wards forget  to  divert  the  whole  court  with  it." 

Mademoiselle  de  Scudery  flourished  in  the  reign 
of  Henry  IV.,  and  died  in  1601,  According  to  the 
dictum  of  phrenologists,  she  must  have  had  the  organ 
of  imagination  "  strongly  developed,"  for  the  cele- 
brated Monsieur  Cos  tar  says,  "  that  out  of  her  own 
head  she  composed  eighty  volumes  /" 

In  her  "  Conversations,"  in  which  much  knowledge 


166  BEAUTIES  OF 

of  the  world  is  displayed,  the  following  passage  occurs 
concerning  dedications,  which  is  so  curious,  that  we 
make  no  apology  for  transcribing  it.  "  There  was  a 
certain  writer  who  had  three  dedicatory  epistles  to 
the  one  book,  for  three  persons  very  different  in  rank 
and  merit,  with  a  view  of  making  use  of  that  which 
could  be  turned  to  the  best  account,  and  a  third  per- 
son negotiated  the  matter.  As  things  happened,  he 
dedicated  the  book  to  the  best  bidder,  but  the  worst 
man.  Another,  who  now  rests  from  his  labours,  had 
prepared  a  dedication,  or  rather  a  panegyric  •,  but 
the  subject  of  it  losing  his  places  before  the  book 
was  printed,  it  was  suppressed. — It  is  well  known, 
that  a  certain  country  author  came  to  Paris,  with  a 
very  elaborate  dedication  to  Cardinal  Richelieu ;  but, 
finding  him  dead  on  his  arrival,  he  evinced  his  dex- 
terity by  modelling  it  into  a  panegyric  on  the  queen, 
Mary  of  Austria.  There  was  another,  who,  after 
highly,  and  as  justly,  commending  a  living  person, 
gave  an  opposite  turn  to  all  he  had  said,  because  the 
individual  died  before  he  had  rewarded  the  author  in 
a  manner  commensurate  with  his  fancied  merit.  Yet 
I  think  neither  of  these  came  up  to  the  artifice  of  one 
Rangouza,  who,  having  printed  a  collection  of  letters 
■without  paging  or  order,  save  the  bookbinder's  direc- 
tions, so  to  arrange  them,  as  that  each  person  to 
whom  a  copy  of  the  volume  was  presented  should 
find  his  own  first,  and  taking  precedence  of  all  others ; 
which  could  not  but  be  bountifully  rewarded,  as  being 


rrxENCii  HISTORY.  167 

a  very  flattering  distinction.  These  letters  were  justly 
termed  golden  letters ;  for  the  author  boasted  tliat, 
one  with  another,  they  brought  him  near  thirty  pis- 
toles each." 

So  much  for  the  dedications  of  those  days.  Ma- 
demoiselle de  Scudery,  we  may  remark,  obtained  the 
title  of  the  Sappho  of  her  age. 

Lewis  Birto  Crillon,  a  gentleman  of  Avignon,  as 
remarkable  on  account  of  the  peculiarities  in  his 
temper  as  his  intrepidity,  which  had  procured  him 
the  name  of  Dreadnought,  having  been  sent  to  the- 
Duke  of  Guise  after  the  reduction  of  Marseilles,  the 
duke  resolved  to  try  his  courage,  and  agreed  with 
sonic  gentlemen  to  give  a  sudden  alarm  before  Cril- 
lon's  quarters,  as  if  the  enemy  had  taken  the  place ; 
at  the  same  time  he  ordered  two  horses  to  the  door, 
and  going  up  into  Crillon's  room,  told  him  all  was 
lost;  that  the  enemy  were  masters  of  the  post  and 
town  ]  that  they  had  forced  the  guards,  and  broke  and 
put  to  flight  all  those  that  opposed  them ;  that  find- 
ing it  impossible  to  resist  any  longer,  he  thought  it 
was  better  for  them  to  retreat  than,  by  suffering  them- 
selves to  be  taken,  add  to  the  glories  of  the  victory ; 
that  he  had  therefore  ordered  two  horses  to  be  brought, 
which  were  ready  at  the  door,  and  desired  he  would 
make  haste,  for  fear  they  should  give  the  enemy  time 
to  surprise  them.  Crillon  was  asleep  when  the  storm 
began,  and  was  hardly  awake  whilst  the  Duke  of  Guise 
was  saying  all  this  to  him;  however,  without  being  at 


168  BEAUTIES  OF 

all  disconcerted  by  so  hot  an  alarm,  he  called  for  his 
clothes  and  his  arms,  saying,  they  ought  not,  on  too 
slight  grounds,  to  give  credit  to  all  that  was  said  of 
the  enemy ;  and  even  if  the  account  should  prove  true, 
it  was  more  becoming  men  of  honour  to  die  with 
swords  in  their  hands,  than  to  survive  the  loss  of  the 
place.  The  Duke  of  Guise  not  being  able  to  prevail 
on  liim  to  change  his  resolution,  followed  him  out  of 
the  room,  but  when  they  were  got  halfway  down 
stairs,  not  being  able  to  contain  himself  any  longer, 
he  burst  out  laughing,  by  which  Crillon  discovered 
the  trick  that  had  been  played  upon  him ;  he  there- 
upon assumed  a  look  much  sterner  than  when  he  only 
thought  of  going  to  fight,  and  squeezing  the  Duke  of 
Guise's  hand,  said  to  him,  swearing  at  the  same  time, 
"  Young  man,  never  make  a  jest  to  try  the  courage 
of  a  man  of  honour;  for  hadst  thou  made  me  betray 
any  weakness,  I  would  have  plunged  my  dagger  into 
thy  heart !"  and  then  left  him  without  saying  a  word 
more. 

The  reign  of  Henry  the  Fourth  has  occupied  many 
pages ;  but  it  is,  without  doubt,  the  most  remarkable, 
interesting,  and  important,  of  the  History  of  France, 
and  therefore  well  merits  the  space  devoted  to  it. 

LOUIS  THE  THIRTEENTH 

Ascended  the  throne  of  France  in  1610,  at  the  age 
of  nine  years,  the  queen-mother,  Mary  de  Medicis, 


FRENCH  HISTORY  169 

holding  the  reins  of  government  as  regent  of  the 
kingdom  during  his  minority. 

The  duke  of  Sully,  deeply  afflicted  and  distressed 
by  tiie  assassination  of  his  friend  and  master,  and 
suspecting  that  he  might  be  equally  obnoxious  to  the 
contrivers  of  the  murder,  immediately  shut  himself 
up  in  the  Bastile,  of  which  he  was  governor.  He 
had  not  only  received  many  warnings  that  his  life 
was  in  danger,  but  after  he  had  actually  set  out  to 
wait  upon  the  queen,  Vitri,  the  captain  of  the  guard, 
met  him,  and  counselled  him  to  return.  It  had  re- 
quired many  messages,  by  persons  of  the  highest 
rank,  who  assured  him  that  his  fears  were  ground- 
less, to  induce  him  to  pay  the  visit;  and  his  reluct- 
ance so  to  do  might,  perhaps,  have  been  the  chief 
cause  of  the  neglect  with  which  he  was  subsequently 
treated.  He  solicited  and  obtained  permission  to  re- 
tire to  his  castle  of  Sully,  on  the  Loire,  and  died  at 
the  advanced  age  of  eighty-two,  in  December,  1641. 

The  young  king,  on  his  bed  of  justice,  according 
to  established  custom  on  such  occasions,  confirmed 
the  queen-mother  in  the  regency. 

In  the  year  1611,  negotiations  were  carried  on  for 
the  union  of  Louis  with  the  Infanta  of  Spain ;  and 
the  duke  of  Mayenne  was  sent  as  ambassador  to  that 
country.  The  marriage  articles  were  signed,  and 
the  princess  addressed  as  Queen  of  France.  After 
some  days,  the  duke,  being  about  to  return  home, 
asked  her  if  she  had  any  commands  for  the  king,  his 
15 


170  BEAUTIES  OF 

master,  now  her  betrothed  husband.  "  Tell  him," 
said  she,  "that  I  am  impatient  to  see  him."  This  an- 
swer appearing  indelicate  to  ihe  Countess  of  Allamira, 
her  governess  ;  "  what,"  said  she,  "  will  the  king  of 
France  tliink  of  a  princess  so  ardent  for  marriage  ?" 
''  Have  you  not  taught  me,"  replied  the  Infanta,  "al- 
ways to  speak  the  truth.?" 

The  two  great  favourites  and  advisers  of  the  queen- 
regent  were  Leonora  Galigai  and  her  husband,  Con- 
chini,  who  had  followed  the  queen,  on  her  marriage, 
from  Italy  into  France.  Tlie  latter  became  first  lord 
of  the  bed-chamber,  and  both  amassed  great  wealth 
under  the  protection  of  their  mistress.  Conchini  was 
courted  by  the  nobles  in  the  most  servile  manner,  and 
"was  created  Mareschal  D'Ancre.  At  length,  becoming 
every  where  hated  for  his  arrogance  and  cupidity,  he 
determined  on  quitting  France  with  the  money  he 
had  collected.  The  inhabitants  of  Paris  were,  at  this 
period,  in  a  state  of  insurrection,  mounted  guard  on 
their  gates,  and  allowed  no  person  to  pass  in  or  out 
■without  a  passport ;  consequently,  the  Mareschal 
D'Ancre,  when  he  attempted  to  leave  the  city  in  his 
carriage,  was  stopped  by  force.  "  Villain,"  said  he 
to  Picard,  a  shoemaker,  then  officer  of  the  guard, 
"do  you  not  know  me  .?"  "  That  I  do,"  replied  Pi- 
card,  firmly,  and  with  somewhat  of  contempt;  "but 
you  shall  not  go  by  without  a  passport."  Subse- 
quently, however,  he  obtained  an  order  of  egress 
from  the  commissary,  and  sent  his  groom  and  two 


FRENCH   HISTORV.  171 

valets  to  beat  the  shoemaker.  They  executed  their 
commission  so  unmercifully,  that  the  unfortunate 
man  almost  died  under  their  hands:  they  were,  how- 
ever, immediately  arrested,  and  in  a  few  days  hanged 
at  the  very  gate  where  the  afiair  took  place  The 
Mareschal,  finding  he  had  not  power  enough  to  save 
the  lives  of  his  servants,  made  another  efibrt  to  leave 
France  •,  but  his  wife  refusing  to  accompany  him,  he 
remained,  and  engaging  in  several  cabals  to  regain  the 
influence  he  had  lost,  his  deadi  was  resolved  upon  by 
the  nobles,  with  the  consent  of  the  young  king,  who 
dreaded  and  disliked  him.  Vitri,  the  captain  of  the 
guard,  agreed  to  accept  the  office  of  assassin.  On  the 
mareschal's  entering  the  Louvre  in  the  morning,  as 
usual,  Vitri  seized  him  by  the  arm,  saying  he  was  his 
prisoner.  The  mareschal  was  surprised,  and  strug- 
gled ;  other  attendants  of  the  guard  instantly  advanced, 
and  shot  him  dead  with  their  pistols,  then  stabbed  the 
corpse  with  their  swords,  and  kicked  it  with  their 
feet.  Ilis  wife  was  afterwards  charged  with  having 
meditated  the  death  of  the  king,  and  being  subjected 
to  a  mock  trial,  was  condemned  and  executed. 

The  power  of  the  leading  nobles  became  altoge- 
ther overbearing ;  and  the  king  was  little  better  than 
a  cipher  in  the  state,  his  youth  and  natural  imbecility 
rendering  him  unable  to  limit  or  control  their  in- 
fluence. As  an  evidence  of  the  weakness  of  the  go- 
vernment, it  is  stated  that  two  soldiers  of  the  guards 
fought  a  duel ;  the  one  killed  the  other ;  and  the  sur- 


172  BEAUTIES  OF 

vivor  was  apprehended  and  imprisoned  in  the  abbey 
of  St.  Germains.  The  colonel-general  demanded 
that  he  should  be  tried  by  a  court-martial ;  and,  on 
being  refused,  broke  open  the  prison  and  took  him 
away  by  force.  A  complaint  having  been  laid  before 
parliament,  the  colonel-general  was  cited  to  appear, 
and  answer  for  his  conduct.  lie  obeyed,  but  came 
attended  by  six  hundred  gentlemen,  and  a  large  body 
of  his  guards.  The  parliament  was  intimidated,  and 
instantly  adjourned,  several  of  the  members  being  in- 
sulted by  the  soldiers  as  they  passed  out. 

A  long  and  unprofitable  war  with  Spain ;  a  severe 
persecution  of  the  Huguenots ;  domestic  differences 
between  the  nobles  who  sided  with  the  favourites  of 
the  queen,  and  those  who  took  part  with  the  mo- 
narch— form  the  leading  features  of  the  uninteresting 
reign  of  Louis  XIII. 

By  the  advice  of  his  most  influential  minister — the 
celebrated  Cardinal  Richelieu,  who  determined  on 
the  entire  subjugation  of  the  Huguenots  in  France — 
in  the  year  1627  proceedings  were  taken  against 
them.  The  Huguenots  themselves,  often  dissatisfied 
and  restless,  furnished  the  king  with  frequent  and 
plausible  reasons  for  the  course  which  was  subse- 
quently pursued.  The  people  of  Rochelle  in  parti- 
cular had  given  much  cause  of  complaint.  In  1621, 
they  appeared  in  open  arms  £;gainst  his  authority ; 
and  for  some  time  refused  all  attempts  at  accommo- 
dation, althougli  advised  to  accept  terms  by  their  an- 


FRENCH  IIISTORT.  173 

cient  and  tried  friend  Du  Plessis  Mornay.  When  this 
excellent  and  accomplished  man  was  oflered  a  sum 
of  100,000  crowns  to  surrender  Saumur,  of  which 
place  he  was  governor,  into  the  hands  of  the  king, 
he  returned  an  answer  which  deserves  to  be  record- 
ed : — "  I  might  have  had  millions,"  said  he,  indig- 
nantly, "  if  ]  had  preferred  riches  to  honour  and  a 
good  conscience."  In  1627,  the  Rochellese  were 
again  in  arms  to  maintain  their  riglits  and  liberties, 
having  received  encouragement  from  England,  and 
been  assisted  with  ammunition  and  provisions  by  the 
celebrated  duke  of  Buckingham,  the  favourite  minis- 
ter of  James  1.,  and  afterwards  of  his  son  Charles. 
The  French  army  blockaded  the  city,  and  endea- 
voured to  reduce  it  by  famine.  The  besieged  became 
greatly  distressed,  but  resolved  to  endure  all  priva- 
tions and  sufferings  rather  than  surrender.  The 
mavor,  Guiton,  a  man  of  superior  understanding  and 
extraordinary  courage,  animated  his  fellow-citizens 
by  his  words  and  conduct  to  submit  to  any  extremity 
in  preference  to  abandoning  their  civil  and  religious 
liberties.  When  he  accepted  the  office  of  chief  ma- 
gistrate, which  he  did  with  reluctance,  shortly  before 
the  commencement  of  the  siege,  holding  a  poniard 
in  his  hand,  he  said,  "  I  take  the  office  of  mayor, 
since  you  insist  upon  it;  but  I  do  it  on  condition 
that  I  shall  be  allowed  to  plunge  this  dagger  into  the 
heart  of  him  who  shall  first  propose  to  surrender  the 
city, — not  excepting  myself  from  this  doom ;  for 
15* 


174  BEAUTIES  OF 

which  purpose,  the  weapon  shall  lie  on  the  table  of 
tliis  public  hall,  in  which  we  are  now  assembled." 
Some  time  afterwards,  one  of  his  friends  pointed  out 
to  liim  a  person  dying  of  hunger.  "  Are  you  sur- 
prised at  this  ?"  said  Guiton ;  "  it  Avill  be  the  fate  of 
both  you  and  me,  unless  our  friends  are  able  to  suc- 
cour us."  And  again,  when  he  was  told  that  all  the 
people  were  dying,  he  replied,  coolly,  "  Well,  be  it 
so ;  it  is  enough  if  one  shall  remain  to  secure  the 
gates."  After  having  endured  almost  incredible  suf- 
ferings, Rochelle,  however,  did  surrender  on  capitu- 
lation ;  but  not  without  its  defenders  having  been 
guarantied  personal  security,  the  protection  of  pro- 
perty, and  the  free  exercise  of  their  religion  within 
the  city.  When  the  besiegers  entered  it,  the  conta- 
gion arising  from  the  number  of  unburied  dead  made 
it  unsafe  for  them  to  move  along  the  streets;  the  sur- 
vivors having  been  so  exhausted,  languid,  and  care- 
less, that  they  had  neither  strength  nor  spirit  to  inter 
those  who  had  perished ;  in  iiict,  they  Avere  them- 
selves mere  walking  skeletons.  Above  15,000  per- 
sons died  of  famine  or  pestilence  during  the  thirteen 
months  the  siege  lasted.  The  submission  of  all  the 
other  Protestant  towns  and  fortresses  shortly  fol- 
lowed. Richelieu  was  himself  present  before  Ro- 
chelle. 

The  Cardinal  possessed  the  most  unlimited  con- 
trol over  Louis.  He  even  went  so  far  as  to  procure 
the  imprisonment  of  the  queen-mother  in  Compiegne, 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  175 

and  surrounded  the  king  with  his  crcaiures  and  liis 
spies. 

It  was  artfully  and  successfully  argued  by  him  and 
his  minions,  that  the  kingdom  could  not  be  safe  while 
the  queen-mother  was  permitted  to  cabal  in  the  very 
cabinet;  they  therefore  resolved  to  place  her,  at  least 
for  a  time,  at  a  distance  from  the  seat  of  government. 
On  tlie  23d  of  February,  Louis  went  away  early 
to  hunt,  and  left  Mary  de  Medicis  under  a  guard  in 
Compiegne :  even  there,  Richelieu  thought  her  still 
too  near  Paris ;  and  requests,  entreaties,  nay  threats, 
were  employed  to  prevail  upon  her  to  remove  to  An- 
gers or  IMoulins  ;  but  she  positively  refused  to  change 
her  situation,  unless  she  were  forced  :  at  last,  how-ever, 
she  proposed  of  her  own  accord  to  go  to  Capelle,  on 
the  frontiers,  v/hence  she  hoped  easily  to  pass  into 
the  Spanish  Netherlands.  On  her  arrival  there,  being 
refused  admittance,  she  wrote  the  following  letter  to 
the  king,  Irer  son  :  "  As  my  health  declined  daily,  and 
the  Cardinal  seemed  determined  that  I  should  die  in 
prison,  I  thougiit  it  necessary,  to  save  my  life  and  my 
dignity,  to  accept  the  offer  made  me  by  the  Marquis 
de  Varde,  to  take  refuge  in  Capelle,  of  which  he  is 
governor,  and  where  your  power  is  absolute.  I  re- 
solved, therefore  to  go  thither ;  but  when  vx^ithin  three 
leagues  of  that  place,  two  gentlemen,  sent  by  the  Mar- 
quis, informed  me  that  I  could  not  enter  the  city,  as 
he  had  no  longer  the  charge  of  it,  having  committed 
it  to  his  father.     I  leave  you  to  judge  of  my  distress, 


176 


BEAUTIES  OF 


thus  disappointed,  guarded  by  cavalry,  destitute  of  a 
residence,  and  forced  to  retire  from  your  dominions. 
The  wliole  treatment  which  I  have  received,  I  have 
now  discovered,  from  the  testimony  of  those  employ- 
ed as  subordinate  agents,  is  the  device  of  the  Cardinal 
to  urge  me  to  this  extremity."  She  then  proceeded 
to  Brussels,  where  she  was  most  courteously  received 
by  the  Archduchess  Isabella ;  and  where,  at  a  distance 
from  her  personal  friends,  she  could  no  longer  anno}'- 
the  minister  nor  distract  the  councils  of  the  kingdom. 
She  remained  in  comparative  ease  for  some  years, 
till  the  commencement  of  the  calamities  in  Great 
Britain,  in  1641,  when  she  quitted  the  Netherlands, 
hoping  to  obtain  refuge  and  support,  in  her  destitute 
state,  in  England,  with  her  daugliter.  Queen  Henrietta, 
the  wife  of  Charles  the  First;  but  she  found  both 
Henrietta  and  her  husband  too  deeply  involved  in 
their  own  distresses  to  afford  her  any  relief  or  assis- 
tance. They  introduced  her,  however,  to  the  French 
ambassador,  Bellievre,  and  joined  her  in  entreating  him 
to  represent  her  homeless  and  dependent  state  to  the 
king,  her  son  ;  and  to  plead  with  him  to  receive  her 
back  to  his  court,  or  at  least  to  make  due  provision 
for  her  support  and  protection  ;  she  engaging  to  reside 
any  where  in  France  that  he  migl\t  be  pleased  to  ap- 
point, and  to  live  quietly,  not  intermeddling  in  public 
affairs,  or  giving  occasion  of  uneasiness  or  trouble  to 
any  of  his  ministers.  Bellievre  refused  to  interpose 
for  he  was  prohibited  from  holding  intercourse  with 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  177 

her  :  but  at  the  same  time  that  he  made  her  believe  he 
would  do  HOthing,  he  sent  an  account  of  this  inter- 
view privately  to  the  cardinal  and  found  he  was  still 
implacable.  The  king  and  queen  of  England  them- 
selves wrote  in  her  behalf;  and  were  assured  in  an- 
swer, that  to  receive  her  into  France  would  be  to  en- 
danger the  state ;  that  the  malcontents  would  naturally 
resort  to  her ;  and  that  such  was  her  temper,  she  could, 
not  refrain  from  encouraging  them :  finally,  it  was  re- 
commended to  her  to  retire  into  Florence,  where  her 
son  promised  to  make  a  suitable  provision  for  her: 
to  this  she  would  not  agree,  but  went  to  Cologne, 
where  she  lived  in  comparative  indigence  until  she 
died,  an  event  which  took  place  on  the  3d  of  July, 
1642. 

The  next  object  of  the  cardinal  was  to  humble  so 
completely  the  Parliament  of  France,  as  to  make  it 
the  mere  machine  by  which  the  king's  orders  were 
executed.  The  court  of  Aides  of  Paris,  however, 
acted  with  some  show  of  spirit,  in  opposing  the  ab- 
solute power  of  Louis  and  his  imperious  minister ; 
for  the  Comte  de  Soissons  having  intimated  to  them 
that  he  should  attend  the  court  at  a  certain  hour,  in 
the  name  of  his  majesty,  in  order  to  have  a  money 
edict  registered  ;  when  the  time  came,  the  court  was 
deserted  by  the  whole  of  its  members,  and  no  person 
was  left  either  to  receive  the  count  or  to  register  the 
edict.  Richelieu  was  offended,  the  court  was  threat- 
ened, and  purchased  pardon  at  the  expense  of  honour 


178  BEAUTIES  OF 

A  special  civi]  commission,  in  place  of  a  military 
order,  was,  in  1632,  granted  for  the  trial  of  tlie 
Mareschal  Marignac,  wiio  was  charged  with  high 
crimes  and  misdemeanors  in  the  conduct  of  the 
anny,  and  who  had  certainly  been  guilty  of  some 
peculations  usually  connived  at  in  other  officers.  His 
real  offence,  however,  was,  that  during  Louis's  illness 
at  Lyons,  he  had  advised  the  queen-mother,  if  the 
king  died,  to  apprehend  Richelieu  and  his  friends, 
and  to  deal  with  them  as  circumstances  might  direct. 
After  his  trial  had  begun,  the  judges  were  suspected 
of  acting  too  leniently;  the  court  was  therefore  dis- 
solved, and  another  appointed,  of  such  a  nature  as  to 
render  the  conviction  of  the  accused  certain.  They 
proved  the  charge,  and,  after  diligent  search,  found 
an  old  law,  which  declared  peculators  liable  to' pu- 
nishment in  body  and  goods  (^confiscation  de  corps  et 
de  Mens).  This  they  interpreted  to  mean  death  and 
confiscation ;  and  Marignac  was  condemned  by  thir- 
teen judges  out  of  three  and  twenty.  He  was  be- 
headed almost  immediately  after,  at  the  age  of  sixty 
years. 

The  foregoing  and  other  anecdotes  of  a  similar  na- 
ture, sufficiently  prove  that,  at  this  period  of  French 
history,  liberty  and  public  virtue  had  fled,  and  that 
arbitrary  power  had  fixed  its  iron  throne  in  the  king- 
dom. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  the  arrogant  church- 
man was  without  enemies  among  a  people,  many  of 


FRENCH   HISTORY.  179 

■\vhorn  rclained  the  bold  and  uncompromising  love  of 
freedom  which  liad  been  so  general  during  the  reiati 
of  the  great  and  good  Henry  IV.  The  Duke  of  Or- 
leans, brother  to  the  king,  and  the  Comte  de  Soissons, 
resolved  on  the  destruction  of  the  cardinal:  they  only 
hesitated  whether  it  were  better  to  undermine  him 
with  the  king,  and  so  to  ruin  him  publicly,  or  to  re- 
iiove  him  by  private  assassination ;  and  finally  de- 
termined on  the  latter.  They  employed  four  of  their 
own  domestics  who  were  to  be  ready,  on  a  certain 
signal,  to  put  him  to  death.  On  the  dismissal  of  the 
council,  the  two  princes  were  to  detain  him  in  con- 
rersation,  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  after  Louis  was 
j^one.  They  did  so;  the  men  stood  ready,  only 
H  aiting  for  the  sign.  But,  instead  of  giving  it,  the 
duke,  feeling  himself  extremely  agitated,  ran  up 
stairs,  and  the  count,  not  knowing  his  motive,  al- 
lowed Richelieu  to  retire  in  safety.  In  1642,  how- 
ever, a  more  fatal  conspirator  against  his  life  made  his 
appearance — one  whose  arm  cannot  be  stayed  either 
by  force  or  cunning.  He  was  taken  suddenly  ill  of  a 
fever,  and  was  informed  that  within  twenty-four  hours 
he  must  die.  In  the  fifty-eighth  year  of  his  age,  and 
the  eighteenth  of  his  ministry,  he  departed  this  life, 
having  declared,  during  his  last  moments,  that  "  he 
forgave  his  enemies,"  of  whom  he  had  many,  "  as 
freely  as  he  hoped  for  the  Divine  forgiveness." 

Richelieu  was  one  of  the  most  remarkable  men  of 
the  age  in  which  he  lived.     Ambitious,  proud,  irrita- 


180  BEAUTIES  OF 

ble,  and  domineering,  he  presents  to  posterity  the 
true  picture  of  a  Romish  priest,  who  considered  that 
every  thing  should  be  subservient  to  the  interests  of 
the  church,  and  that  the  end  always  sanctified  the 
means.  Dissimulation  was  so  much  employed  by 
him,  that  it  seemed  systematic  and  natural :  yet  he 
was  seldom  deceived  himself,  except  by  those  who 
flattered  him ; — and  with  flattery  he  Avas  never  satis- 
fied, unless  it  became  hyperbolical.  Although  not 
learned,  he  patronised,  or  at  least  affected  to  patronise, 
learned  men;  not,  it  was  asserted,  from  any  real  love 
towards  them,  but  because  such  patronage  added  to 
his  reputation,  gratified  his  vanity,  and  gave  him 
eclat.  An  anecdote  is  related  of  him,  which,  if  true, 
places  his  character  in  a  very  mean  light.  When 
Corneille,  the  great  French  dramatist,  published  "The 
Cid,"  it  was  translated  into  all  the  languages  of  Eu- 
rope, besides  those  of  Slavonia  and  Turkey.  Riche- 
lieu sent  for  the  author,  and  offered  him  any  sum  he 
might  demand,  if  he  would  permit  him  to  be  consi- 
dered the  author :  Corneille  preferred  fame  to  riches, 
and  refused :  for  Avhich,  it  is  said,  the  ambitious  priest 
never  forgave  him.  He  was,  however,  subsequently 
obliged  to  concur  in  public  opinion,  and  settled  a 
pension  on  the  poet.  ^ 

Louis  XIIT.  died  a.d.  1643,  leaving  behind  him  no 
very  favourable  reputation.  His  great  defect  was  in- 
decision of  character,  which  rendered  him  timid,  re- 
served, and  unsocial.     Two  descriptions  of  persons 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  18] 

became  absolutely  necessary  to  him — one  to  govern 
the  country,  another  to  amuse  him;  and  it  is  but  rea- 
sonable to  suppose,  that  the  latter  was  invariably  sup- 
plied by  the  former.  Richelieu  treated  him,  in  some 
respects,  like  a  child ;  and  terrified  him  into  submis- 
sion by  threatening  to  leave  him,  or  by  depicting  to 
him,  in  glowing  and  exaggerated  colours,  the  dangers 
to  which  his  kingdom  was  exposed.  Louis  feared 
rather  than  loved  the  cardinal ;  yet  sacrificed  every 
thing,  even  his  own  mother,  to  that  statesman's  will. 

The  weak  and  childish  king  was  fond  of  all  kinds 
of  show  and  ceremony;  and  of  surrounding  himself 
with  idle  and  useless,  but  gaily-dressed  youths.  It 
is  related  in  Sully's  Memoirs,  that  he  once  sent  for 
his  father's  excellent  minister,  from  his  retirement,  to 
appear  at  court.     The  order  was  obeyed. 

"  Monsieur  de  Sully,"  said  Louis  to  him,  "  I  sent 
for  you,  as  being  one  of  the  chief  ministers  of  the 
king,  my  father,  and  a  man  in  whom  he  placed  great 
confidence,  to  ask  your  advice,  and  to  confer  with 
you  upon  some  afiairs  of  importance."  The  Duke 
of  Sully  seeing  none  but  young  courtiers  about  the 
king,  who  ridiculed  his  dress  and  the  gravity  of  his 
manners,  made  this  answer :  "  Sire,  I  am  too  old  to 
change  my  habits  but  for  some  good  cause.  When 
the  late  king,  your  father,  of  glorious  memory,  did 
me  the  honour  to  send  for  me,  to  confer  with  me  upon 
matters  of  importance,  the  first  thing  he  did  was  to 
send  away  the  buffoons."  The  king  seemed  not  to 
16 


182  BEAUTIES   OF 

disapprove  of  this  freedom ;  lie  ordered  every  one  to 
withdraw,  and  remained  for  some  time  alone  with  Ai- 
de Sully. 

Of  the  literary  men  Avho  flourished  during  the 
reign  of  Louis  the  Thirteenth,  the  most  distinguished 
after  Richelieu  himself — whose  fame,  however,  was 
owing  to  his  wealth  and  station — and  Corneille,  were 
Malherbe,  De  Thou  (the  historian),  Pasquier,  and  the 
philosopher  Descartes. 

Of  these  eminent  and  highly-gifted  individuals,  a 
few  anecdotes  cannot  be  considered  out  of  place. 

Corneille  gives  the  following,  as  a  history  of  him- 
self, to  his  friend  M.  Pellisson  : 

En  inatiere  d'amour  je  suis  fort  inega! ; 
Pen  ecris  assez  bien,  et  le  fais  assez  mal, 
J'  ai  la  plume  feconde,  el  la  bouche  sterile ; 
Bon  galant  an  theatre,  et  fort  mauvaise  en  ville, 
Et  Ton  peut  rarement  m'ecoiiter  sans  ennui 
Que  quand  je  me  produis  par  la  bouche  d'autri. 

Of  Malherbe,  who  flourished  in  Henry's  reign,  it  is 
said,  Uiat  one  day  a  lawyer  of  high  rank  broiigiii  him 
some  verses  to  look  at,  adding  that  a  particular  cir- 
cumstance had  compelled  him  to  write  to  them.  Mal- 
herbe having  looked  over  them  with  a  very  siiper- 
cdious  air,  asked  the  gentleman  whether  he  had  been 
sentenced  to  make  those  damnable  verses,  or  to  be 
hanged  ? 

Steven  Pasquier  was  a  lawyer,  no  less  celebrated 
for  his  honesty  than  for  the  singularity  of  his  reli- 


FUENCH  HISTORY.  ]83 

gious  opinions.  A  print  of  him  was  published  without 
hands ;  the  oddiiy  was  explained  by  an  epigram,  the 
substance  of  which  is,  "Howl  Pasquier  without 
hands  ?"  "  Yes,  ye  griping  lawyers,  to  indicate  how 
stricdy  f  abstained,  as  the  law  enjoins,  from  fleecing 
my  clients.  Would  to  God  you  could  be  shamed  out 
of  your  rapacity !" 

M.  de  Thou  had  tlie  most  modest  diffidence  of  him- 
self, and  the  most  gentle  bearing  of  any  man  of  his 
time.  The  English  estimated  his  history  so  highly, 
that  by  an  Act  of  Parliament,  a  set  of  booksellers, 
who  were  preparing  a  very  correct  and  fine  edition 
of  it,  were  exempted,  in  that  work,  from  the  usual 
duties  on  paper  and  printing.  The  following  me- 
thod of  furnishing  a  table,  related  by  him,  is  very 
curious: 

"  In  a  journey,"  says  M.  de  Thou,  "  which  I  made 
into  Languedoc,  I  paid  a  visit  to  the  bishop  of  Mende, 
at  his  delightful  seat  in  that  province,  who  treated  us 
rather  with  the  splendour  of  a  nobleman  than  the 
simplicity  of  an  ecclesiastic.  We  observed,  however, 
that  all  the  wild  fowl  wanted  either  a  leg,  a  wing,  or 
some  other  part.  '  Why,'  said  the  prelate,  merrily, 
'it  does  not  look  very  elegant,  indeed;  but  you  must 
excuse  the  greediness  of  my  caterer,  who  is  always 
for  having  the  first  bit  of  what  he  brings.'  Upon 
being  informed  that  his  caterers  were  no  otiier 
than  eagles,  we  expressed  a  desire  to  be  informed 
of  the  method  of   their  service ;   wliich  our  friend 


184  BEAUTIES   OF 

accordingly  did.  The  eagles  build  their  nests  in  the 
cavity  of  some  high  steep  rock,  which,  when  the 
shepherds  discover,  they  erect  a  litde  hut  at  the  foot 
of  the  precipice,  to  secure  themselves,  and  watch 
when  the  birds  fetch  prey  to  their  young;  and  as 
the  moment  they  deposite  the  game  in  their  nest 
they  fly  off  in  quest  of  more,  the  shepherds  run  up 
the  rocks  with  astonishing  agility,  and  carry  it  away, 
leaving  some  entrails  of  animals  instead,  that  the  nests 
may  not  be  forsaken.  In  general,  before  the  plun- 
derers reach  the  nest,  the  old  or  young  eagles  have 
torn  off  some  part  of  the  bird  or  animal ;  which  is  the 
reason  why  the  bishop's  luxuries  appeared  in  so  mu- 
tilated a  state  :  the  quantity  of  game,  however,  amply 
compensates  for  the  defect,  as  the  lord  and  lady  eagle 
always  choose  the  best  the  fen,  forest,  or  hill  afford." 
A  nobleman,  who  was  very  ignorant,  being  at  the 
same  table  with  Descartes,  and  seeing  him  eat  of  two 
or  three  nice  dishes  with  pleasure — "  How!"  said  he; 
*'  do  philosophers  meddle  with  dainties  ?"  "  Why 
not,"  replied  Descartes ;  "  is  it  to  be  imagined  that  the 
wise  God  created  good  things  only  for  dunces  ?" 

LOUIS   THE  FOURTEENTH 

Ascended  the  throne  of  France  on  the  14th  of  May, 
]643,  at  the  age  of  five  years.  By  the  will  of  his  father, 
the  queen-mother,  Anne  of  Austria,  was  appointed  re- 
gent during  the  minority,  but  under  the  direction  and 
control  of  a  council  of  regency,  consisting  of  the 


FRENCH  HISTOnV.  185 

Duke  of  Orleans,  the  Prince  of  Conde,  Cardinal  Ma- 
zarin,  Pierre  Seguier,  chancellor,  Boulhillier  superin- 
tendent of  finance,  and  Chavigne  his  son.  The  king- 
dom, although  in  a  state  of  internal  peace,  still  con- 
tinued to  be  oppressed  with  a  foreign  war.  Spain 
and  Austria  were  at  this  time  her  enemies.  In  1648, 
however,  chiefly  by  the  exertions  and  valour  of  the 
celebrated  Mareschal  de  Turenne,  a  treaty  was  con- 
cluded at  Munster  in  Westphalia,  between  France  and 
Austria,  which  left  her  Spain  only  to  contend  with. 
The  peace  was  a  seasonable  relief  to  France,  for  she 
was  then^egitated  and  distracted  by  internal  factions, 
and  the  commencement  of  actual  hostilities  at  home, 
which  originated  in  the  metropolis  and  even  in  the 
parliament  itself.  The  profusion  of  the  late  as  well 
as  of  the  present  court  had  led  to  the  imposition  of 
several  new  and  heavy  taxes,  at  a  time  when  the  stale 
necessities  required  a  decrease  rather  than  an  increase 
of  the  public  burdens.  Parliament  had  again  and 
again  protested  against  the  impolitic  course  pursued ; 
but  it  was  always  compelled,  either  by  persuasion  or 
threats,  to  register  the  money  edicts  and  give  them 
the  authority  of  law.  At  length  the  chambers  united 
in  a  powerful  combination  against  the  government ; 
and  the  spirit  by  which  they  were  animated  naturally 
spread  itself  among  the  people,  who  assembled  tu- 
multuously  in  various  parts  of  the  city,  and  ultimately 
prepared  themselves  for  a  well-arranged  and  vigorous 
plan  of  insurrection. 

16* 


188  BEAUTIES  OF 

The  government  and  the  parliament  shortly  came 
to  an  open  rupture ;  the  latter  proceeded  to  stop  the 
issues  of  money,  and  the  former  to  vent  its  indigna- 
tion on  the  persons  most  obnoxious  to  the  court.  In 
the  end,  however,  the  king  and  his  ministers  found 
themselves  under  the  necessity  of  making  some  con- 
cessions ;  but  they  availed  themselves  of  the  very 
earliest  opportunity  to  intimidate  the  opposition, 
called  (it  is  not  clearly  ascertained  why)  Frondenrs, 
and  to  bring  them  completely  under  subjection  to  the 
authority  of  the  crown.  With  this  view,  Cardinal 
Mazarin,  then  the  most  influential  minister  of  the  king, 
seized  and  imprisoned  Pierre  Broussel  and  the  Sieur 
de  Blancmesnil,  two  of  the  most  zealous  and  turbulent 
of  the  party,  and  the  most  prominent  champions  of 
the  people.  The  consternation  of  the  citizens  soon 
changed  to  fury.  They  ruslied  in  thousands  to  the 
palace,  demanded  the  liberation  of  the  prisoners,  and 
loudly  threatened  vengeance  upon  all  by  whose  au- 
thority tliey  had  been  confined.  The  queen,  at  first, 
regarded  these  proceedings  as  of  little  consequence ; 
but  the  coadjutor  of  Paris,  Paul  de  Gondi — afterwards 
the  Cardinal  de  Retz — expressed  a  different  opinion, 
and  offered  his  services  to  go  and  pacify  the  mob. 
"The  people  are  only  dangerous,"  said  the  queen, 
"in  the  eyes  of  such  as  wish  them  to  be  so."  "  Would 
to  God,  Bladam,"  replied  the  coadjutor,  "every  one 
would  speak  to  you  Math  as  much  sincerity  as  I  do. 
I  deplore  the  dangerous  state  of  the  public,  who  are 


FRENCH    HISTORY.  187 

my  flock,  and  I  am  alarmed  for  the  consequences  to 
your  Majesty's  authority  and  government."  De  Gondi 
was  then  requested  to  endeavour  to  appease  them ; 
and  he  partially  succeeded  :  but  on  his  return  to  court, 
his  reception  was  so  cold,  and,  as  he  considered,  so 
ungrateful,  that  he  retired  to  devise  the  means  of  a 
more  serious  conspiracy,  of  which  he  determined 
himself  to  be  the  secret  head.  He  was  a  man  utterly 
without  principle,  but  bold  and  eloquent,  and  looked 
on  the  factious  as  powerful  tools  in  the  hands  of  him 
who  could  acquire  and  use  them.  By  the  aid  of  se- 
veral subordinate  agents,  such  a  system  was  formed 
and  understood  that  a  signal  was  sufficient  to  raise, 
arrange,  and  arm,  the  whole  population  of  Paris  The 
queen  imprudently  resolved  to  prohibit  the  parliament 
from  assembling;  and  for  that  purpose  ordered  the 
commissioners  to  go  in  procession  through  the  streets. 
The  people  were  thus  roused  to  acts  of  violence  ;  and 
three  companies  of  the  guards  were  sent  to  disperse 
them :  the  coadjutor  then  issued  his  orders,  the  alarm- 
drum  was  beat,  every  agent  was  at  his  post ;  and  one 
of  them,  named  Argenteuil  (a  gentleman  of  rank,  dis- 
guised as  a  mason),  at  the  head  of  a  large  body  of 
citizens,  attacked  the  soldiery,  killed  several,  took 
from  them  their  standard,  and  put  them  to  flight ;  and 
within  two  hours,  the  whole  city  was  in  open  rebel- 
lion. 

Under    these    circumstances,  the    parliament   re- 
solved to  go  in  a  body  to  the  palace  to  request  the 


168 


BEAUTIES  OP 


liberation  of  their  members,  Bronssel  and  Blancmesnil, 
and  to  insist  on  knowing  the  name  of  the  person  who 
had  advised  their  apprehension  and  imprisonment. 
Tiiis  latter  resolution  was  evidently  aimed  at  Cardinal 
Mazarin.  Accordingly  two  hundred  and  fifty  of  the 
members  set  forth  from  their  several  chambers, 
cheered  as  they  passed  along  by  the  people,  who 
exclaimed,  "  Fear  not  the  court ;  we  will  protect  you." 
They  were  received  by  the  king,  the  queen,  the  duke 
of  Orleans,  the  cardinal,  &.c.  The  first  president 
stated  their  request  freely  and  eloquently,  and  urged 
the  necessity  of  yieding  to  the  demands  of  one  hun- 
dred thousand  men  in  arms,  enraged  beyond  measure, 
and  prepared  for  the  execution  of  any  excess.  The 
queen,  naturally  proud 'and  intrepid,  although  she 
perceived  the  danger,  refused  to  submit.  '"  The  reme- 
d}'  of  the  evil  was,"  she  said,  "  in  the  power  of  those 
who  had  created  it^  for  her  part  she  would  persevere 
in  maintaining  inviolate  the  authority  committed  to 
her  on  behalf  of  the  king." 

They  then  retired  :  but  a  part  of  them,  strongly  im- 
pressed with  the  imminent  risk  to  all  parties — them- 
selves, the  city,  the  court,  and  the  kingdom,  returned 
and  renewed  their  importunities.  The  cardinal  at 
last  promised  to  liberate  the  prisoners,  Broussel  and 
Blancmesnil,  on  condition  that  the  parliament  would 
discontinue  their  political  meetings,  and  confine  them- 
selves entirely  to  their  civil  functions.  This  proposal 
requiring  to  be  considered,  and  the  greater  part  of  the 


FRENCH  HISTORY. 


189 


members  being  of  opinion    that   their   deliberation 
and  judgment  would  not  be  held  free  and  valid  with- 
out retiring  from  the  court  to  their  own  hall,  they 
resolved  to  go  thither.    When  the  people  saw  them  re- 
turning, and  understood  that  they  had  not  succeeded, 
they  murmured,  hardly  allowing  them  to  pass  the 
first  and  second  barricadoes ;  but  when  they  came  to 
the  third  (a  la  croix  du  /errewr),  a  journeyman  cook, 
named  Roguenet,  advanced  with  two  hundred  men, 
and  putting  his  halberd  to  the  first  president's  breast, 
'^  Return  traitor,"  said  he  ;  "  obtain  for  us  the  libera- 
tion of  Broussel,  or  fetch  us  the  chancellor  and  the 
cardinal  as  hostages,  until  he  shall  be  liberated,  or 
else  submit  to  a  violent  death."     He  added,     "  Go, 
assure  the  queen,  that  if  within  two  hours  she  shall 
not  have  satisfied  the  people,  two  hundred  thousand 
armed  men  will  present  themselves  before  her,  tear 
the  cardinal  in  pieces  in  her  presence,  and  set  her 
palace  on  fire."     These  menaces  were  accompanied 
Avith  so  many  insults  and  daring  outrages,  that  the 
greater  number  of  the   members   threw  themselves 
among  the  multitude,  and  escaped.     The  first  presi- 
dent stood  his  ground  intrepidly,  until  he  had  rallied 
around  him  a  considerable  body,  with  which  he  went 
back  to  the  palace.     Having  again  obtained  an  au- 
dience, he   represented  with    earnest   eloquence  the 
obstacles   they  had  encountered,  which  had  forced 
them  to  return  and  the  necessity  imposed  on  them  to 
insist  on  the  queen's  compliance  with  the  wishes  of 


190  BEAUTIES  OP 

the  people.  She  was  unmoved  ;  but  the  Duke  of  Or- 
leans, and  even  the  cardinal,  with  the  other  courtiers 
present,  becoming  alarmed,  intreatcd  her  to  yield,  and 
to  grant  willingly  that  which  it  appeared  she  would 
soon  be  obliged  to  concede.  "  Then,"  said  she,  "  if 
necessity  compels  me,  I  must  consent.  Go,  and  take 
such  steps  as  the  crisis  requires."  The  letires  de  cachet 
were  immediately  written  out,  and  shown  to  the 
crowd.  But  now  they  refused  to  move  until  Broussel 
was  produced  before  them ;  and  in  this  state  they  re- 
mained until  he  arrived,  which  was  on  the  following 
day.  Then,  by  order  of  parliament,  the  barricadoes 
instantly  fell;  the  shops  were  opened  ;  and  the  whole 
city  became  orderly  and  quiet. 

But  although  the  people  were  satisfied,  the  princi- 
ples of  discord  remained  in  the  breasts  of  those  by 
whom  the  opposite  parties  had  been  ruled  and  guided. 
The  cardinal  was  determined  upon  vengeance ;  and 
the  coadjutor,  on  consulting  his  own  safety,  by  pro- 
curing the  death  or  banishment  of  his  leading  and 
most  powerful  adversary. 

After  several  hostilities,  and  a  variety  of  proposi- 
tions and  treaties  on  both  sides,  however,  a  peace 
was  concluded  between  the  government  and  the 
people ;  and,  in  1050,  Cardinal  Mazarin  Avas  con- 
demned to  perpetual  banishment,  declared  an  outlaw, 
and  all  his  property  confiscated  to  the  state.  There 
was,  however,  no  sincere  reconciliation  ;  all  parties 
were  equally  suspicious  and  fearful ;    and  disorder 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  191 

every  where  prevailed.  Matters  were  in  this  unsettled 
and  dangerous  state,  when,  the  king  being  fourteen 
years  old,  was  declared  of  age,  and  took  into  his  own 
hands  the  reins  of  government.  One  of  liis  first 
acts  was  the  recall  of  the  old  minister  Mazarin,  a 
measure  that  produced  another  collision  between  the 
monarch  and  the  parliament.  The  latter  was  instantly 
in  a  blaze  •,  they  denounced  the  cardinal  as  guilty  of 
high  treason  ;  declared  him  an  outlaw  ;  and  offered 
a  sum  of  15,000  livres  to  any  person  who  would 
bring  him  before  them  alive  or  dead.  Mazarin,  how- 
ever, succeeded  in  passing  the  Loire,  and  joined  the 
court  at  Poitiers,  where  a  large  royalist  army  had 
been  assembled.  The  country  was  now  in  a  state  of 
civil  war,  and  a  number  of  battles  were  fought ;  but 
owing  chiefly  to  the  skill  and  valour  of  the  Mare- 
schal  de  Turenne,  who  commanded  the  troops  of  the 
king,  and  the  indecision  and  want  of  unanimity 
among  the  rebels,  the  current  of  public  opinion  ra- 
pidly changed,  and  Louis  was  invited  to  return  "  to 
his  good  city  of  Paris."  The  invitation  was  ac- 
cepted •,  the  coadjutor — now  the  Cardinal  de  Retz — 
was  imprisoned,  and  his  successful  rival,  Mazarin, 
triumphed.  In  the  year  1660,  this  ambitious  and 
extraordinary  man  died. 

Soon  after  the  death  of  the  Cardinal  Mazarin,  an 
event  of  a  very  inexplicable  nature  occasioned  much 
conversation  and  conjecture  throughout  France : — 
A  person,  evidently  of  distinction,  was  conveyed  to 


192 


BEAUTIES  OP 


a  small  island  (Vile  de  Sainte  Marguerite)  where  he 
was  confined  in  the  most  rigid  manner,  although 
treated  with  the  greatest  consideration.  This  prisoner 
was  compelled  always  to  wear  an  iron  mask,  so 
contrived  that  it  was  not  necessary  to  displace  it 
when  he  either  ate  or  drank,  and  his  attendants  had 
strict  orders  to  kill  him,  if  at  any  time  he  attempted 
to  remove  it.  After  a  period  he  was  taken  to  the 
Bastile,  where  every  luxury  was  provided  for  him, 
and  every  attention  paid  him  consistent  with  secrecy 
and  security.  He  was  particularly  fond  of  fine  linen 
and  splendid  lace,  and  played  agreeably  on  the  guitar. 
He  was  apparently  young,  and  of  a  pleasing  and 
noble  figure,  and  his  voice  sweet  and  melodious. 
Such  was  the  respect  shown  him  that  even  the  go- 
vernor of  the  Bastile  seldom  seated  himself  in  his 
presence.  This  wonderful  unknown  died  in  1703 ; 
and  was  buried  at  night  in  the  parish  of  St.  Paul's. 
What  renders  the  circumstance  still  more  incompre- 
hensible is,  that  when  he  was  sent  to  the  Isle  of  St. 
Marguerite,  no  person  of  rank  was  missed  throughout 
Europe.  Nevertheless,  he  was  strictly  a  prisoner  of 
state;  and  a  little  incident  that  occurred  while  he  was 
on  the  island  clearly  shows  that  he  was  anxious  to 
communicate  the  secret  of  his  captivity.  The  gover- 
nor of  the  castle  always  placed  his  dinner  on  the  table 
"with  his  own  hands,  and  having  secured  the  apart- 
ment, left  him  to  himself.  The  prisoner  scratched 
some  words  on  one  of  the   silver  plates  with   his 


FRENCH   HISTORr.  193 

knife,  and  flung  it  out  of  the  window  towards  a  boat 
that  was  moored  under  the  castle.  A  simple  fisher- 
man picked  up  the  plate,  and  conveyed  it  to  the  go- 
vernor, who  immediately  inquired  if  he  had  read 
what  was  written  on  it,  and  whether  any  one  had 
seen  it  in  his  possession.  The  man  replied,  that  he 
could  not  read,  and  that  no  one  had  seen  it.  The 
governor  having  ascertained  that  he  spoke  the  truth, 
dismissed  him,  saying,  that  his  ignorance  was  his 
greatest  blessing.  M.  de  Chamillart  was  the  last  per- 
son intrusted  with  the  fearful  secret,  and  it  is  believed 
that  he  faithfully  carried  it  to  his  grave.  Of  course 
conjecture  was  busy  on  the  subject:  and  many  slirewd 
guesses  were  given  as  to  who  "  the  man  with  the 
iron  mask"  could  be.  To  the  present  hour,  however, 
it  has  never  been  ascertained.  The  most  plausible 
opinion  is,  that  he  was  a  twin  brother  of  the  king; 
and  that,  to  prevent  domestic  strife,  he  had  been  kept 
in  secrecy  and  security  from  the  time  he  was  born. 

The  termination  of  the  life  of  Mazarin  may  be 
considered  as  the  commencement  of  the  reign  of 
Louis  the  Fourteenth. . 

/  From  this  period  he  resolved  to  be  his  own  mi- 
nister; and  when  the  Archbishop  of  Rouen,  then 
president  of  the  French  clergy,  desired  to  know  to 
whom  he  was  now  to  address  himself  on  subjects 
connected  with  the  church  ;  "  Address  yourself  to 
me,"  said  the  king ;  "  I  will  take  care  you  shall 
soon  have  an  answer."  '  The  character  of  the  mo- 
17 


194  BEAUTIES  OP 

narch  underwent  a  sudden,  but  total  change  :  day  after 
day  his  people  beheld  vigour  and  perseverance  in  the 
cabinet,  a  condescending  attention  to  the  petitions  of 
his  subjects,  and  a  general  attention  to  all  matters 
connected  with  the  government.  His  ministers  were 
men  of  talent,  exp)erience,  and  integrity  ;  and  improve- 
ments of  every  kind  were  gradually  introduced  into 
the  various  departments  of  the  state,  the  army,  and 
the  courts  of  justice.  Louis,  however,  was  not  satis- 
fied with  the  moderate  exercise  of  power  ;  he  studied 
to  render  it  absolute,  regardless  alike  of  policy  and 
law.^ 
'  Although  at  war  with  Germany,  and  several  other 
most  powerful  states  of  Europe,  he  continued  to  aug- 
ment his  territory  and  increase  his  power. ,  The  cam- 
paign of  1675  was  rendered,  unhappily,  memorable  by 
the  death  of  Turenne,  a  general  of  the  highest  ability 
and  moral  worth.  Having  obtained  some  advantages 
over  the  enemy  at  Wilstat,  cut  ofi'  their  communica- 
tion with  Strasburg,  and  compelled  them  to  retreat, 
he  immediately  prepared  to  attack  them  in  such  a 
situation  as  appeared  to  render  their  destruction  in- 
evitable. 

He  rose  very  early  the  next  morning,  heard  mass 
and  communicated,  and  continued  to  observe  the 
movements  of  the  enemy.  While  breakfasting  under 
a  tree,  he  was  informed  that  their  tro(»ps  were  in 
motion :  he  instantly  mounted  his  horse,  and  while 
reconnoitering,  a  ball  struck  him  on  the  stomach,  and 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  195 

killed  him.  It  was  impossible  to  conceal  his  death, 
■which  spread  universal  consternation  over  the  camp, 
and  rendered  the  officers  and  soldiers  equally  inca- 
pable of  action.  Every  one  seemed  as  if  he  had  lost 
a  friend  and  a  father. 

The  enemy,  who  had  begun  their  retreat,  now  re- 
turned to  their  station  without  fear;  and  might,  in 
their  turn,  have  attacked  the  dispirited  French  army 
with  great  advantage. 

The  generals  by  whom  he  was  succeeded  were 
divided  in  opinion  as  to  what  course  they  ought  to 
pursue,  and  resolved  at  last  to  abandon  their  stores 
at  VVilstat.  and  to  retreat  across  the  Rhine.  They 
were  pursued  by  the  foe,  who  fell  upon  their  rear. 
The  engagement  became  general,  and  the  French  were 
finally  victorious,  with  the  loss  of  about  3000  men ; 
but  they  killed  5000  of  the  enemy,  and  made  2500 
prisoners.  They  continued  their  retreat,  however, 
and  were  followed  by  the  imperialists  into  Alsace. 

The  death  of  Turenne  at  so  critical  a  moment  sud- 
denly changed  the  state  and  spirit  of  the  French  ar- 
mies, and  was  severely  felt  all  over  the  kingdom. 
Louis  was  greatly  afflicted,  not  only  on  account  of 
personal  respect  and  confidence,  but  because  he  had 
no  other  general  competent  to  supply  his  place.  Tu- 
renne was  about  the  middle  size,  and  well  propor- 
tioned ;  his  hair  was  of  a  chestnut  colour ;  his  features 
regular;  his  eyes  prominent;  his  forehead  large;  his 
eyebrows  thick  and  almost  joined  together.     His  ge- 


196  BEAUTIES  OF 

neral  expression  was  modest,  serene,  and  thoughtful ; 
having  that  mixture  of  kindness  and  severity  which 
it  is  difficult  to  paint.  He  was  considered  ambitious 
in  his  youth  ;  but,  as  he  advanced  in  life,  that  passion 
was  moderated  by  prudence  and  a  sense  of  propriety. 
He  was  always  generous ;  and  though  he  had  com- 
manded armies  above  thirty  years,  he  might  be  said 
to  have  left  no  money.  Such  was  his  integrity,  that 
not  only  his  own  countrymen,  but  foreign  states, 
knew  that  they  could  trust  in  him  if  he  only  pledged 
his  word ;  for  he  was  cautious  in  his  promises,  and 
strict  in  performing  them.  He  possessed  that  sen- 
sibility which  led  him  promptly  to  enter  into  others' 
feelings,  and  made  him  anxious  to  relieve  them. 
Soldiers  and  officers  equally  respected  him.  He  en- 
deavoured to  keep  them  always  moderately  employ- 
ed ;  for  he  said,  that  unless  he  occupied  them  in 
something  good  and  proper,  they  would  employ 
themselves  in  something  improper. 

As  far  as  it  was  possible,  he  prevented  the  injury 
of  his  enemies ;  and  when  they  fell  into  his  hands, 
he  treated  them  with  consideration  and  kindness. 
Amidst  the  many  temptations  to  provocation  and  re- 
sentment, incident  to  the  course  of  a  long  military  life, 
he  maintained  such  an  equanimity  and  self-govern- 
ment that  he  was  scarcely  ever  known  to  utter  an 
ofTensivc  word. 

His  meekness  and  patience,  his  justice  and  temper- 
ance, were  so  great,  as  to  indicate  a  spirit  and  prin- 


FRENCH    HISTORY.  197 

ciples  far  above  those  of  mere  reason  and  nature ; 
and  he  is  represented  as  pious  towards  God,  as  well 
as  benevolent  to  men.  Such  was  the  character  of  the 
Mareschal  de  Turenne,  alike  honourable  to  his  coun- 
try and  to  humanity,  and  the  portrait  is  one  that 
ought  to  be  preserved — well  would  it  be  if  all  great 
generals  resembled  it. 

The  war  continued  until  the  year  1678,  and  was 
then  terminated  by  the  treaty  of  Nimeguen.  As  soon 
as  Louis  was  at  peace  with  foreign  powers,  he  com- 
menced, or  rather  revived,  a  bitter  persecution  of  the 
Calvinists.  About  the  beginning  of  his  reign  they  are 
said  to  have  amounted  to  two  millions  and  a  half  of 
souls — being  rather  above  a  twelfth  of  the  Avhole 
population  of  France;  but  it  is  calculated  that  the 
persecutions  they  suffered  in  his  time  reduced  them 
to  one  half  that  number !  Many  thousands  of  them 
were  massacred ;  six  thousand  were  driven  out  of  the 
kingdom  ;  they  emigrated  in  immense  parties  ;  and  the 
rovocation  of  the  edict  of  Nantes — which  took  place 
in  1685,  completed  their  destruction.  In  the  days  of 
their  prosperity  they  had  626  churches,  and  647  mi- 
nisters. They  had  a  college  at  Montauban  ;  and  in 
consequence  of  some  trifling  quarrel  between  them 
and  a  party  of  Jesuits,  which  the  latter  magnified 
into  an  affair  of  the  most  alarming  importance,  the 
town  was  severely  punished — about  300  families  be- 
ing expelled  from  their  iiomes  in  the  middle  of  win- 
17* 


198  BEAUTIES  OF 

ter,  and  in  a  rainy  season  peculiarly  unfavoarable  for 
travelling. 

Milhaiid,  the  chief  city  of  Rouergue,  suffered  a 
similar  persecution,  occasioned  by  a  dispute  with  the 
Capuchin  missionaries  settled  there.  On  the  10th  of 
February,  1663,  these  missionaries  assaulted  a  funeral 
procession  of  the  Reformed,  endeavouring  to  prevent 
it;  and  they  provoked  the  mourners  to  force  their 
way  by  violence.  Informations  were  lodged  against 
the  latter,  with  false  and  aggravating  circumstances ; 
and  orders  were  immediately  issued  to  punish  them 
and  their  party  with  the  most  unmerited  severity. 
Some  were  hanged,  others  subjected  to  the  amende 
honourable^  the  minister  was  banished,  several  women 
were  whipped,  and  a  fine  of  14,000  livres  imposed 
on  all  of  the  reformed  religion  in  the  city.  It  would 
be  tedious  to  describe  a  number  of  similar  cases, 
which  show  the  increased  and  determined  spirit  of 
persecution  that  reigned  in  the  courts,  and  the  extent 
and  violence  to  which  it  was  carried  over  the  country. 
The  sick  were  vexed  with  the  officious  visits  of 
monks  and  priests,  requiring  them  to  acknowledge 
the  Catholic  faith,  and  to  die  in  it ;  children  were  en- 
ticed or  stolen  from  their|parents  to  be  educated  as 
Catholics-,  and  300  churches  were  shut  up,  without 
either  provocation  or  form  of  justice.  The  half-parted 
chambers,  that  is,  the  courts  of  justice,  in  which  the 
Reformed  sat  in  equal  numbers  with  the  Catholics  in 
judgment,  were  suppressed  ;  and  the  Reformed  nov» 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  199 

referred  for  the  decision  of  their  affairs  to  courts  in 
which  their  enemies  were  the  only  judges.  The 
consequence  was,  that  in  almost  every  trial,  judg- 
ment was  given  against  them  as  heretics.  They  were 
deprived  of  all  offices,  civil  and  military ;  their  reli- 
gion excluding  them  from  every  situation  of  autho- 
rity and  emolument.  After  the  year  1680,  they  were 
not  even  allowed  to  practise  any  branch  of  the  medi- 
cal profession,  and  their  traders,  artificers,  &c.,  were 
prohibited  from  masterships.  There  was  an  evident 
determination  to  deprive  them  not  only  of  the  ho- 
nours, offices,  and  comforts  of  society,  but  of  the  very 
means  of  subsistence  ;  to  make  life  a  burden  to  them ; 
and  so  to  compel  them  to  become  Catholics  or  quit 
the  country. 

Those  that  remined  in  Vivares  and  Dauphine,  ex- 
asperated by  the  various  hardships  to  which  they 
were  exposed,  became  impatient  and  reckless  of 
life,  and  rose  in  arms  against  their  immediate  oppres- 
sors. But,  without  a  leader  and  without  discipline, 
what  availed  their  temporary  resistance  ?  Some  hun- 
dreds of  them  were  slain,  and  the  sufferings  of  the 
survivors  rendered  the  more  severe.  The  insurrec- 
tion gave  occasion  to  t||e  court  to  believe  that  an 
armed  force  was  necessary,  and  dragoons  were  ac- 
cordingly quartered  on  the  reformed  families  over  all 
the  provinces.  The  king  fancied  that  the  mere  ap- 
pearance of  soldiers  would  subdue  the  spirit  of  the 
people,  and  terminate  all  opposition  to  the  authority 


200  BEAUTIES  OF 

and  prevalence  of  the  Catholic  church.  He  was  not 
aware  that  persecution  for  religious  belief  confirms, 
instead  of  eradicating,  the  peculiar  sentiments  of  the 
persecuted  ;  and  this  dragoonade,  for  so  it  was  called, 
while  it  miserably  oppressed  the  Protestants,  inflamed 
their  resentment,  and  increased  their  hatred  of  both 
church  and  state. 

Some  of  the  clergy,  usually,  either  a  bishop  or  a  cu- 
rate, attended  the  soldiers,  with  authority  to  inflict  any 
punishment,  short  of  death,  on  recusants.  Many 
died  of  their  sufferings ;  many  also  attempted  to  es- 
cape ;  but  the  frontiers  were  guarded,  and  they  were 
driven  back,  cruelly  disappointed. 

These  horrid  scenes  took  place  before  the  misery 
of  the  Calvinists  had  been  completed,  and  their  hopes 
extinguished,  by  the  revocation  of  the  edict  of  ?>' antes; 
after  this  event,  the  sole  object  of  their  oppressors 
was  to  root  them  altogether  out  of  the  land.  It  is 
only  wonderful  that  tliey  did  not  succeed  to  the  full- 
est extent;  for,  although  above  a  million  of  the  per- 
secuted Protestants  sought  refuge  in  other  countries, 
a  considerable  number  remained,  notwithstanding 
their  dreadful  situation. 

!  It  is  said,  that  the  revocajiionof  the  edict  of  Nantes 
was  chiefly  owing  to  the  influence  possessed  by 
Madame  de  Maintenon  over  the  mind  of  the  king; 
and  the  suspicion  that  such  was  the  case  has  thiown 
a  slur  over  the  memory  of  this  excellent  woman. 
It  is,  however,  very  unlikely  that  the  charge  has  any 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  201 

foundation  in  fact.  The  edict  was  revoked  only  two 
months  after  her  marriage  with  the  king,  when  it  is 
scarcely  probable  that  she  would  have  displayed  so 
much  zeal  in  political  or  ecclesiastical  affairs.  It  is 
certain  that  she  was  a  rigid  Catholic ;  but  the  whole 
tenour  of  her  life  is  opposed  to  the  idea  that  she 
could  carelessly  or  with  satisfaction  behold  the  sacri- 
fice of  so  many  lives,  or  listen  to  the  groans  of  per- 
secuted and  miserable  thousands,  without  taking  a 
course  the  very  opposite  to  that  alleged  against  her  by 
her  adversaries.  Indeed,  her  letters  afford  abundant 
evidence  that  her  object  was  to  lessen  and  not  in- 
crease the  wretchedness  of  those  among  whom  she 
had  once  lived,  and  with  whom  were  many  of  her 
earliest  and  dearest  associations. 

A  sketch  of  the  life  of  this  amiable  and  accomplished 
lady,  to  whose  advice  and  assistance  Louis  was 
unquestionably  indebted  for  much  of  the  greatness 
and  prosperity  by  which  his  reign  was  distinguished, 
may  be  filly  introduced  here.  Frances  d'Aubigne, 
daughter  of  Theodore  Agrippa  d'Aubigne,  was  born 
on  the  27th  of  November,  1635,  in  the  prison  of 
Niort,  in  which  her  mother  had  shut  herself  up  with 
her  husband.  On  her  father's  liberation,  he  set  out 
with  all  his  family  for  America,  where  he  had  claims 
to  considerable  property.  During  the  voyage,  Fran- 
ces became  so  ill,  that  she  was  thought  dead,  and 
was  about  to  be  lowered  into  a  watery  grave,  when 
signs  of  life  were  discovered,  and  she  was  preserved. 


202  BEAUTIES  OP 

For  some  time  they  lived  prosperously  in  Martinique; 
but  on  the  death  of  Theodore,  his  wife  and  children 
were  left  totally  destitute.  The  mother  returned  to 
France,  and,  after  some  tim^,  her  daughter,  now  about 
seven  years  of  age,  was  seui  to  her,  and  was  received 
by  Madame  de  Vilette,  her  father's  sister,  and  brought 
up  by  her  in  the  Protestant  religion ;  but  was  after- 
wards, by  the  influence  of  her  mother  and  another 
relation,  boarded  with  the  Ursuline  nuns  at  Niort,  and 
became  a  Catholic.  On  the  decease  of  her  mother, 
"when  she  was  about  sixteen,  she  married  the  Abbe 
Scarron,  a  canon  of  Mons,  who  was  neither  yonng 
nor  rich,  handsome  nor  healthy,  but  humpbacked  and 
gouty  :  he,  however,  possessed  an  inexhaustible  fund 
of  humour,  kept  a  good  table,  and  saw  much  company. 
The  deformity  of  this  celebrated  wit  did  not  pre- 
vent him  from  imagining  that  he  was  made  for  "  ladye 
love ;"  and  fond  as  he  was  of  laughing  at  others,  he 
never  could  bear  to  be  laughed  at.  The  following 
anecdote  illustrates  both  his  foibles  : — one  morning 
he  received  a  letter,  purporting  to  come  from  a  fe- 
male of  extraordinary  beauty,  who  was  captivated  by 
his  wit,  and  longed  to  tell  him  how  much  she  ad- 
mired him,  appointing  a  spot  where  she  would  meet 
him  ;  this  place  was  a  tremendous  distance  from  Scar- 
ron's  house,  but  he  was  too  vain  of  the  invitation  to 
decline  it,  and  accordingly  he  posted  thither  at  the 
set  time.  lie  had  no  sooner  quitted  home,  than  a  se- 
cond note  was  left  at  his  house,  apologizing  for  the 


FRENCH   HISTORY.  203 

delay,  and  fixing  another  time  for  the  interview ;  a 
secoiid  disappointment  succeeded,  tlien  a  third,  and 
even  a  fourth  ;  when  at  last  he  discovered  the  cheat, 
he  was  never  known  to  mention  the  name  of  the  au- 
thor afterwards  without  an  imprecation. 

When  he  was  dying,  his  friends  shed  many  tears, 
and  uttered  great  lamentation.  Scarron  beheld  the 
scene  unmoved,  only  observing,  "You  will  never  cry 
for  me  so  much  as  1  have  made  you  laugh." 

Meantime,  his  wife,  taking  advantage  of  the  op- 
portunities of  conversation  which  she  enjoyed  with 
hun,  had  cultivated  a  knowledge  of  the  ancient,  and 
several  of  the  modern  languages;  and  her  conduct 
during  the  nine  or  ten  years  that  she  lived  with  this 
decrepid  and  infirm  man,  was  most  dutiful  and  ex- 
emplary. At  his  death  she  was  left  with  very  scanty 
means  of  subsistence,  and  repeatedly  applied,  bv  pe- 
tition, to  the  king  for  the  pension  which  her  husband 
had  received  during  his  lil'e,  but  without  success. 

The  queen-mother  gave  her  an  annuity  of  2000 
livres,  which  ceased  after  three  years,  on  her  death. 
Being  in  great  want,  she  entered  a  convent  of  Ursu- 
iuie  nuns ;  but  this  retirement  by  no  means  excluded 
her  from  the  world,  and  she  occasionly  mingled  in 
the  most  respectable  and  agreeable  society.  She  was 
offered  an  appointment  to  educate  some  children  of 
high  rank  in  Portugal,  and  had  agreed  to  the  propo- 
sal, when  she  was  introduced  to  Madame  de  Montes- 
pan,  then  in  high  favour  with  Louis.    In  her  interview 


204  BEAUTIES  OF 

with  that  lady,  she  had  occasion  to  mention  the  re- 
peated refusal  of  her  petition  by  the  king,  which  now 
rendered  it  necessary  to  leave  her  country  for  a  com- 
fortable subsistence. 

Madame,  struck  with  her  beauty,  and  pleased  with 
her  animated  and  interesting  conversation,  told  her 
she  must  not  form  such  a  resolution  ;  and  added,  that 
if  she  would  draw  up  a  new  petition  and  give  it  to 
her,  she  would  present  it  to  his  majesty  with  her 
own  hand.  "  What,"  exclaimed  Louis,  when  the  pe- 
tition was  presented  to  him,  "  the  widow  Scarron 
again  .?"  but  he  listened  to  the  urgency  with  which  it 
was  supported.  "  Her  ancestors,"  said  the  favourite, 
"  ruined  themselves  in  the  service  of  your  ances- 
tors." The  pension  was  granted,  which  enabled  the 
widow  to  live  comfortably,  and  to  devote  her  time  to 
retirement  and  to  religious  and  mental  improvement. 
But  she  was  not  allowed  long  to  enjoy  this  seclusion 
and  leisure.  Madame  de  Montespan,  considering  her 
ability  and  merit,  knew  no  person  so  well  qualified 
for  the  care  and  education  of  the  royal  children  ;  and 
after  Madame  Scarron  had  repeatedly  declined  the 
charge,  Louis  himself  condescended  to  propose  it  to 
her ;  she  consented,  and  entered  on  a  laborious  but 
important  employment,  watching  with  unremitting 
anxiety,  night  and  day,  over  his  young  family.  She 
was  one  morning  surprised  by  a  visit  of  the  king, 
while  with  one  hand  she  was  supporting  the  Duke 
de  Maine,  with  the  other  holding  his  younger  brother 


FREPrCH   HISTORT.  205 

the  Count  de  Thoulouse  on  her  knee,  and  rocking  an 
infant  sister  in  the  cradle  with  her  foot.  Delighted 
vith  the  sight,  Louis  ordered  her  100,000  francs,  and 
raised  her  pension  from  2000  livres  to  2000  crowns. 
About  this  time  Madame  de  Sevigne  wrote  the  fol- 
lowing account  of  her  to  her  daughter : — "  We 
supped  last  night  with  Madame  Scarron  :  we  found  it 
very  pleasant  to  accompany  her,  about  midnight,  to 
the  farther  end  of  the  Fauxbourg  St.  Germain,  very 
near  Vaugirard,  in  the  country,  into  a  fine  large  house, 
situated  by  itself.  She  has  extensive  gardens,  and  spa- 
cious and  elegant  apartments.  She  has  a  carriage, 
horses,  and  servants  ;  and  dresses  richly  but  modestly, 
just  as  becomes  a  woman  who  passes  her  life  with 
people  of  quality.  She  is  amiable,  good,  beautiful, 
and  unaffected.     Her  conversation  is  very  agreeable." 

In  1674  she  was  invited  to  reside  at  court,  to  de- 
vote herself  to  the  care  of  the  children  of  Madame 
de  Montespan.  She  complied  with  the  request,  al- 
though the  situation  was  by  no  means  agreeable  to 
her.  It  is  said  that  the  king  at  first  disliked  her,  and 
was  in  the  end  won  more  by  her  modesty  and  amia- 
bility than  by  her  beauty  and  talent  for  conversation. 
A.S  a  proof  of  his  esteem,  Louis  presented  to  her  the 
estate  of  Maintenon,  which  name  from  that  time  for- 
ward she  assumed.  When  calumnies  were  circulated 
against  her  reputation,  Louis  himself  was  the  first  to 
point  out  and  expose  their  falsehood. 

On  the  death  of  the  queen,  which  happened  in  the 
18 


206  BEAUTIES  OF 

year  1683,  Madame  de  Maintenon's  situation  became 
very  embarrassing.  The  king  required  her  constarV 
attendance  :  she  saw  the  strength  of  his  atiachment 
and  was  not  destitute  of  reciprocal  regard  and  tender- 
ness ;  but  s)\e  was  aware  of  her  critical  circumstances 
and  continued  steadfast  to  her  principles.  This  vir 
tuous  firmness  as  well  as  her  marriage  with  Louis, 
have  been  questioned  ;  and  there  is  circumstantial  evi- 
dence, only  to  prove  the  fact,  no  public  record  or  pri- 
vate documents  of  it  existing.  The  ceremony  is  said 
to  have  taken  place  in  1685,  in  presence  of  the 
Marquis  de  Montchevreuil,  Louvois  and  Bontemps, 
of  Harlay  deChanvalon,  Archbishop  of  Paris,  of  Fa- 
ther de  la  Chaise  ;*  and  that  one  of  the  last  two  per- 
formed the  service.  As  all  present  appear  to  have 
been  bound  to  secrecy,  there  would  of  course  be  no 
public  record  of  it.  Indeed,  St.  Simon  informs  us,  that 
in  those  times  there  were  no  registers  kept  of  such 
transactions.  She  herself  left  no  trace  of  it ;  but  de- 
stroyed all  letters  and  papers  whatsoever  that  had  the 
least  reference  to  it ;  and  is  said  only  once  to  have 
betrayed  the  secret.  "•  She  went,"  says  Beaumelle, 
"to visit  the  convent  of  the  Grand  Carmelites,  where 
queens  alone  have  a  right  to  enter.  Before  admitting 
her,  the  superior  said,  '  You  know  our  rules,  madam, 
and  yourself  can  best  decide  whether  I  should  open 
the  gate  to  you.'   '  Open,'  said  she, '  my  good  mother; 

•  Voltaire  says  thai  Louis  was  induced  to  marty  her  by  the 
advice  of  this  Peie. 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  207 

}  111  may  always  admit  me.'"  The  circumstances  of 
e  idence  are,  her  great  circumspection  and  prudence 
ir  her  conduct  toward  him  during  the  life  of  the 
queen,  and  her  open  familiarity  with  him  afterwards, 
from  the  supposed  date  of  her  marriage,  when  she 
lived  with  him,  not  as  a  mistress,  but  in  all  respects 
as  a  wife  ;  add  to  which,  the  uniform  esteem,  intimate 
friendship,  and  high  respect,  which  he  showed  her, 
in  a  manner  very  difTerent  from  the  attentions  he  ever 
paid  to  any  mistress,  and  the  continuance  of  his  at- 
tachment, and  confidence  in  her  during  the  remaining 
thirty  years  of  his  life.  Her  afTection  and  respect 
were  equally  uniform  and  constant :  she  watched 
with  solicitude  over  his  health,  governed  his  family, 
and  presided  as  a  queen  in  his  court.  She  repeatedly 
attempted  to  have  the  marriage  declared,  and  Louis 
would  have  yielded  to  her  solicitation,  but  for  his 
pride.  Several  of  his  courtiers  knew  this  to  be  his 
weak  side,  on  which  they  might  most  successfully 
attack  him;  and  on  the  first  surmise  of  his  intention, 
besought  and  persuaded  him  to  desist.  Louvois,  espe- 
cially, put  him  in  mind  of  a  solemn  promise  which 
he  had  made  never  to  publish  the  marriage,  and  ex- 
postulated with  him  on  the  indignity  which  would  be 
done  to  his  own  character,  and  to  the  honour  of  his 
family  and  kingdom  :  he  even  threw  himself  on  his 
knees,  and  presenting  a  hilt  of  a  dagger  to  the  king, 
said,  "  Kill  me,  that  F  may  never  see  you  dishonour 
yourself  in  the  eyes  of  all  Europe."    Harlay  Bossuet, 


SOS  BEAUTIES  OF 

and  Fenelon,  those  dignitaries  of  the  church  whom 
he  most  respected,  concurred  in  the  same  opinion  and 
remonstrance,  and  he  was  confirmed  by  them  in  his 
original  resolution.  But  his  attentions  to  her  were 
unremitting,  and  rather  increased  as  they  both  ad- 
vanced in  life.  He  was  almost  constantly  in  her 
chamber,  even  during  the  transaction  of  state  busi- 
ness :  in  the  public  walks  their  carriages  went  abreast, 
that  they  might  converse  together ;  and  when  the  king 
was  on  foot,  he  walked  by  the  side  of  her  chair,  with 
his  head  uncovered,  frequently  stooping  to  hear  what 
she  said ;  for  he  seemed  always  in  conversation  with 
her.  Such  attentions  showed  a  high  degree  of  respect 
and  esteem  ;  and  as  it  was  uninterrupted  and  unabated 
to  the  end  of  his  life,  it  could  not  be  the  love  of  a  mis- 
tress, but  the  relation  and  duties  of  a  husband  to  an 
estimable  woman  and  a  wife.  She  died  three  years 
after  him,  on  the  15th  of  April,  1718. 

But  previously  events  had  occurred  in  England,  in 
which  France  was,  to  some  extent,  involved.  The 
Prince  of  Orange  (William  the  Third)  had  been  called 
to  the  British  throne  by  the  almost  unanimous  voice 
of  the  people ;  and  James  the  Second  was  obliged  to 
consult  his  safety  in  flight :  the  queen  and  her  infant 
the  Prince  of  Wales,  having  been  sent  away  some 
lime  before,  arrived  at  Boulogne ;  whence  sh(!  des- 
patched the  following  affecting  letter  to  the  King  of 
France. 

"  A  fugitive  queen,  bathed  in  tears,  has  exposed 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  209 

herself  to  the  dangers  of  the  sea,  to  obtain  consolation, 
and  an  asylum  from  the  greatest  and  most  generous 
monarch  of  the  world.  In  her  destitute  state  she 
shall  find  with  him  an  enjoyment,  which  others  in 
the  most  prosperous  circumstances  have  sought  with 
avidity.  The  necessity  of  resorting  to  it  diminishes 
not  its  value  in  her  estimation,  since  she  has  preferred 
it  to  every  other  expedient  and  place  of  refuge. 
She  confides  to  the  protection  of  his  majesty  the 
Prince  of  Wales,  the  most  precious  remnant  of  her 
fortune,  and  most  tender  object  of  her  affection.  He 
is  too  young  to  be  sensible  of  the  kind  and  gracious 
protection  afibrded  to  him,  or  to  join  her  in  acknow- 
ledging it;  but  the  sentiments  of  gratitude  glow  warm- 
ly in  a  mother's  heart,  and  already  alleviate  somewhat 
the  bitterness  of  her  sorrows." 

The  Marquis  de  Beringham  was  instantly  de- 
spatched with  royal  carriages  to  conduct  the  queen 
and  her  son  to  St.  Germain,  which  was  suitably  fur- 
nished for  their  reception.  On  the  5lh  of  January, 
1689,  the  king  was  informed  of  the  king  of  England's 
arrival  at  Ambleteuse,  and  immediately  sent  a  suit- 
able deputation  to  welcome  him. 

He  had  received  the  queen,  and  embraced  her  in- 
fant with  the  greatest  tenderness  :  he  had  presented 
her  with  the  key  of  a  small  box,  containing  6000 
pistoles,  and  had  lodged  her,  with  every  comfort  in 
his  power  to  bestow,  in  the  Chateau  of  St.  Germain. 
Next  day  he  went  to  visit  her,  and  was  conversing 
18* 


210 


BEAUTIES  OF 


with  her,  Avhen  the  arrival  of  her  royal  husband  was 
announced. 

Louis  went  immediately  out  and  received  him  at  the 
gate.  .Tames  fell  down  on  his  knees  before  him,  but  he 
instantly  raised  and  embraced  him  most  tenderly,  led 
him  to  the  chamber  of  his  queen,  and  presenting  him 
said,  "There  is  a  man  whom  you  will  be  most 
happy  to  see."  After  introducing  to  him  the  princes 
of  the  blood,  he  took  leave  of  him  for  that  day,  re- 
questing him  to  visit  him  next  day  at  Versailles. 
There  he  was  received  with  equal  attention  and  re- 
spect by  all  the  royal  family.  Louis  resolved  to  give 
him  50,000  crowns,  to  furnish,  in  the  mean  time, 
whatever  he  might  require,  and  to  settle  on  him 
50,000  francs  a  month.  Such  conduct  was  equally 
becoming  a  good  man  and  a  great  king. 

In  the  mean  time  the  war  with  the  Emperor  Leo- 
pold was  renewed  ;  and  it  gave  rise  to  acts  on  the 
part  of  Louis,  that  no  motive  of  policy  or  expediency 
can  ever  justify. 

The  king,  with  a  view  to  prevent  the  enemy  from 
attaining  the  means  of  subsistence,  resolved  to  ravage 
and  burn  the  Palatinate,  which  had  not  otherwise 
merited  such  a  calamity,  than  by  joining  other  states 
of  Germany  in  their  common  defence.  It  was  said 
to  have  been  the  suggestion  of  Louvois,  his  minister, 
and  the  order  received  by  the  generals  was  signed  by 
him ;  but  it  was  virtually  the  order  and  act  of  the 
king.     It  was  forwarded  to  the  army  in  the  middle 


FRENCH    HISTORY.  211 

of  winter,  to  reduce  that  populous  country  to  ashes  ; 
tlie  officers  shuddered  at  the  thought,  and  yet  consi- 
dered themselves  bound  to  obey.  They  communi- 
cated to  the  people  their  orders,  and  signified  to  them 
that,  to  save  their  lives  they  must  instantly,  notwith- 
standing the  inclemency  of  the  season,  leave  theit 
castles  and  cottages,  and  retire  from  the  country, 
which  was  to  be  immediately  converted  into  a  desert. 
It  melted  the  hearts  even  of  men  accustomed  to  blood- 
shed, to  see  men  and  women,  of  every  rank  and 
age — decrepit  old  men  and  tender  infants,  hastening 
to  the  fields,  or  to  the  adjacent  districts,  while  they 
beheld  their  houses  behind  them,  their  towns  and  vil- 
lages, their  furniture,  their  stores,  and  all  their  pro- 
perty in  flames.  The  barbarous  soldiers,  influenced 
by  the  desire  of  plunder,  violated  the  very  sepulchres 
of  the  dead,  where  they  hoped  to  find  treasures. 
Hitherto  the  ambition  of  Louis  had  been  condemned ; 
but  now  all  Europe  execrated  this  unnecessary  and 
monstrous  cruelty. 

The  states  of  Germany  declared  France  their 
common  enemy,  and  united  with  the  emperor  in 
their  defence  ;  a  bloody  and  protracted  war  followed  ; 
and  continued  until  the  peace  of  Ryswick,  in  1697. 

James  11.  died  in  France  A.  D.  1702,  and  on  his 
death-bed  entreated  Louis  to  show  the  same  kindness 
to  his  son  and  family,  as  he  had  done  to  him.  The 
Prince  of  Wales  was  immediately  proclaimed  King 


212  BEAUTIES  OF 

of  England,  under  the  title  of  James  HI.,  and  Louw 
greeted  and  acknowledged  him  as  such. 

A  declaration  of  war,  on  the  part  of  England 
against  France,  was  the  consequence ;  and,  although 
William  III.  did  not  live  to  take  any  share  in  the 
proceedings  that  followed,  his  successor,  Queen 
Anne,  entered  so  completely  into  his  views,  that 
hostilities  were  almost  iminediately  commenced. 
The  command  of  the  British  armies  was  intrusted  to 
the  Duke  of  Marlborough — whose  name  is  so  inti- 
mately blended  with  the  glory  of  his  country — and 
on  the  13th  of  August,  1704,  the  first  great  battle 
between  the  rival  nations  was  fought  at  Hochsted,  or 
Blenheim,  the  French  force  being  commanded  by 
the  Mareschal  Tallard.  A  signal  victory  was  g.iined 
by  the  English  general ;  Tallard  and  13,000  men 
were  taken  prisoners,  and  12,000  were  slain  on  the 
field,  or  drowned  in  the  Danube.  Next  day,  when 
Marlborough  visited  Tallard,  the  latter  assured  him 
that  "  he  had  defeated  the  best  troops  in  the  world." 
"  I  hope,"  "replied  Marlborough,  "  you  will  except 
those  by  whom  they  were  beaten." 

For  nearly  nine  years  the  war  continued  ;  but  at 
length  the  peace  of  Utrecht  restored  tranquillity  to 
Europe — the  treaty  being  signed  between  England, 
Portugal,  Savoy,  Brandenburgh,  the  States  General, 
and  France,  on  the  11th  of  April,  1713. 

While  the  negotiations  were  pending,  a  series  of 
domestic  calamities  afflicted  the  unhappy  Louis,  now 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  213 

at  a  very  advanced  period  of  life.  The  dauphin  and 
dauphiness  (the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Burgundy), 
the  Dulie  of  Brittany,  and  the  Duke  of  Berry,  all 
died  within  a  short  time  of  each  other;  and  it  was 
suspected  that  poison  had  been  administered  to  them 
by  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  nephew  to  the  king :  but 
when  the  prince  threw  himself  at  his  uncle's  feet,  de- 
clared his  innocence,  and  demanded  a  public  trial, 
Louis  assured  him,  that  the  very  rumour  of  guilt,  in 
one  so  near  him,  had  heightened  his  sorrow ;  and 
expressed  his  persuasion  of  his  innocence,  only  re- 
commending him  to  reform  his  generally  unprincipled 
conduct,  which  had  doubtless  given  rise  to  the  suspi- 
cions against  him.  The  death  of  the  dauphin  was, 
not  only  to  tlie  king  but  to  the  country,  an  irreparable 
loss.  Under  the  education  of  the  good  and  gifted 
Fenelon,  Archbishop  of  Cambray,  he  had  imbibed 
such  principles,  as  had  formed  him  to  become  one  of 
the  best,  the  wisest,  and  most  upright  monarchs  that 
ever  guided  the  helm  of  a  state,  or  governed  the  des- 
tinies of  a  kingdom.  This  amiable  and  excellent 
prince  died  on  the  18th  of  February,  at  thirty  years 
of  age;  his  wife  having  just  fallen  a  victim  to  the 
same  malignant  disorder — which  appears  to  have 
been  a  putrid  fever — for  no  symptoms  of  poison  were 
visible  to  the  surgeons  by  whom  the  bodies  were  in- 
spected. 

On  the  17th  of  February,  1715,  the  Persian  ambas- 
sador made  his  public  entry  into  Paris,     His  appear- 


214  BEAUTIES  OP 

ance  and  retinue  were  far  from  mag-nificeiit  or 
splendid. 

A  brancard,  or  species  of  litter,  supported  by  niuieg 
belonging  to  Louis,  carried  three  boxes  of  presents 
from  the  King  of  Persia.  He  was  introduced  on  the 
19th,  when  the  French  monarch,  notwithstanding  his 
age  and  iniirmities,  appeared  to  great  advantage.  He 
was  dressed  in  a  black  suit,  ornamented  with  gold, 
and  embroidered  with  diamonds :  it  had  cost  twelve 
millions  five  hundred  thousand  livres.  When  he 
appeared  at  the  balcony,  the  people  were  delighted 
to  see  him  look  so  well,  and  rent  the  air  with  their 
acclamations  of  Vive  le  Roi !  The  streets  and  the 
courtyard  were  crowded,  and  the  hall  filled  with 
ladies  and  persons  of  quality.  The  old  king  ascended 
the  throne  with  dignity.  Every  thing  was  bril- 
liant and  impressive.  The  ambassador  was  charmed 
with  the  splendour  and  elegance  with  which  he  was 
received ;  but  his  presents  and  appearance  formed  a 
striking  contrast :  they  were  neither  worthy  of  Persia 
to  give  nor  of  France  to  receive.  His  stay  was  long, 
and  very  expensive ;  as  he  was  allowed  five  hundred 
livres  a-day  by  the  French  government. 

On  this  occasion,  Louis  was  seen  in  public  for  the 
last  time.  His  age  was  great,  and  his  health  declining. 
Shortly  before  his  death,  he  called  his  ministers  and 
courtiers  around  him,  and  addressed  them  to  this 
effect : — "  Gentlemen,  I  request  forgiveness  for  the  bad 
example  which  J  have  so  often  set  you ;  and  1  thank 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  215 

yo\i  for  the  affection  and  fidelity  with  which  you 
have  always  served  me.  I  wish  I  could  have  re- 
warded you  more  suitably.  I  entreat  you  to  be  equal- 
ly faithful  and  affectionate  in  the  service  of  my  grand- 
son. I  feel  my  heart  softened,  and  I  see  you  in  tears. 
Farewell.     Remember  me !" 

Louis  the  Fourteenth  died  on  the  1st  of  Septem- 
ber, 1715,  in  the  seventy-seventh  year  of  his  age,  and 
the  seventy-third  of  his  reign. 

His  last  moments  were  certainly  embittered  by 
the  recollection  of  the  many  evil  deeds  of  which  he 
had  been  guilty.  He  exhorted  the  infant  dauphin, 
his  successor,  to  guard  against  the  unnecessary  shed- 
ding of  blood  ;  and  when  his  confessor  inquired  if 
he  suffered  much,  he  replied,  "  No  !"  but  added  that 
he  ought  to  have  more  to  endure  for  the  expiation  of 
his  sins. 

Throughout  his  long  life  he  spent  more  of  his  time 
with  the  ladies  of  the  court  than  with  his  teachers  or 
ministers  ;  and  oftener  read  plays  and  books  of  amuse- 
ment, than  history  or  politics.  Voltaire  has  justly 
observed,  that  he  made  greater  progress  in  the  cul- 
tivation of  his  personal  appearance  and  manners, 
in  riding,  dancing,  and  talking  gracefully,  than  in  the 
study  of  the  sciences,  or  other  branches  of  useful 
learning. 

The  success  with  which  he  acquired  the  Italian 
language,  while  he  was  attached  to  Mademoiselle 
Mancine  (an  Italian) ;  and  the  facility  with  wh'ch  he 


216  BEAUTIES  OF 

learned  the  Spanish  tongue,  in  the  prospect  of  mar- 
rying the  hifanta — showed  what  he  might  have  done 
in  literature  generally,  had  he  possessed  an  ardent 
desire  of  knowledge,  and  been  placed  in  circumstances 
more  favourable  for  its  acquisition.  The  defects  of 
his  mind  were  in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  in  some 
measure  atoned  for  by  his  personal  qualities  and  grace- 
fulness of  conduct. 

He  was  handsome,  had  a  fine  countenance,  a  dig- 
nified and  majestic  expression  and  manner,  and  the 
tones  of  his  voice  were  affecting  and  authoritative ; 
his  movements  were  pleasing,  for  they  became  his 
dignity,  but  would  have  appeared  afl^ected  and  ridicu- 
lous in  one  of  an  inferior  rank.  Conscious  of  his 
own  superiority,  he  Avas  flattered  by  observing  its 
effect  on  persons  of  eminence  when  in  his  presence. 
A  venerable  officer  who  once  faltered  before  him  in 
asking  a  favour,  and  who  could  not  finish  the  sentence, 
but  said,  "  Your  Majesty  will  condescend  to  believe 
me,  that  I  would  not  have  trembled  thus  before  your 
enemies,"  most  readily  obtained  a  favourable  answer 
to  his  request. 

Among  the  many  distinguished  characters  who 
flourished  during  the  reign  of  Louis  the  Fourteentli, 
may  be  enumerated  the  following : — Bossuet,  Bour- 
daloue,  Fenelon,  Massillon,  Mezerai,  Rochefoucauld, 
Pascal,  Mallebranche,  Racine,  Molicre,  M.  and 
Madame  Dacier,  Descartes,  La  Fontaine,  Montes- 
quieu, Rollin,   Scarron,   Boileau,   and   Madame   de 


FRENCH   HISTORT,  217 

Sevigne.     A  few  anecdotes  of  some  of  these  cannot 
fail  to  interest  the  reader. 

Dacier,  at  an  early  age,  became  attached  to  Made- 
moiselle de  Ferre,  afterwards  the  celebrated  and  ac- 
complished Madame  Dacier.  Amongst  other  pro- 
ductions, they  undertook  jointly  a  translation  of 
Plutarch's  lives,  and  were  much  amused  by  the 
various  observations  made  upon  their  production  by 
the  public  and  private  critics  of  the  day ;  some  of 
whom  declared  they  could  trace  the  style  of  Madame 
in  one  particular  life  ;  others  protesting  that  such  and 
such  passages  were  indications  of  Monsieur's  pecu- 
liar manner ;  while  the  fact  was,  that  their  styles  had 
so  perfectly  amalgamated  by  habit,  that  no  distinction 
was  perceptible.  Madame  Dacier,  however,  soon 
relinquished  to  her  husband  the  fame  arising  from 
this  work,  and  shone  forth  as  the  translator  of  Homer. 
A  good  deal  of  controversy  was  occasioned  by  this 
undertaking,  and  sometimes  Madame  Dacier  vvas  be- 
trayed into  a  style  of  invective  by  no  means  feminine. 
It  was,  however,  far  from  characteristic  of  her  dis- 
position. Being  once  pressed  by  a  foreigner  of  dis- 
tinction to  inscribe  her  name  in  an  album  that  was 
graced  by  the  signatures  of  many  celebrated  persons, 
she  answered  she  was  not  worthy  to  appear  in  such 
company.  The  gentleman,  however  would  take  no 
denial :  overcome  by  his  importunities,  she  wrote  her 
name,  and  this  line  from  Sophocles,  in  English — 
"  Silence  is  woman's  ornamenlP — The  harmony  and 
19 


218  BEAUTIES  OF 

happiness  by  which  the  lives  of  these  celebrated  per- 
sons were  distinguished  is  even  a  more  deliglitfiil  re- 
collection than  that  afforded  by  the  knowledge  of  their 
splendid  acquirements ;  the  fame  and  attention  that 
awaited  them  abroad,  never  for  a  moment  rendered 
them  insensible  to  their  domestic  duties;  and  they  edu- 
cated their  children  themselves  with  care  and  attention. 
They  were  deprived  of  their  eldest  son,  just  as  he 
had  attained  his  eleventh  year  :  even  at  that  early  age, 
he  had  acquired  a  knowledge  of  the  best  Greek  au- 
thors, and  other  information  equally  extaordinary  at 
his  tender  years.  The  eldest  daughter  entered  a 
nunnery  ;  and  their  youngest  had  not  completed  her 
eighteenth  year,  when  she  also  was  taken  from  her 
parents,  who  suffered  most  bitterly  from  this  second 
bereavement.  The  translations  of  Monsieur  Dacier 
gained  him  a  seat  in  the  Frencii  Academy,  to  which 
was  soon  added  his  election  inlo  that  of  the  hiscrip- 
tions  and  Belles  Lettres.  He  survived  the  death  of 
his  beloved  partner  but  two  years. 

"One  day,"  says  Menage,  "  on  meeting  Madame 
de  Sevigne,  I  took  her  hand  between  mine;  and  upon 
her  withdrawing  it,  M.  Pelletier,  standing  by,  said, 
*  Menage,  that  is  the  most  beautiful  work  that  ever 
came  from  you,  with  all  your  ability.'" 

"  It  raises  my  spleen,"  said  Madame  de  Sevigne, 
"to  hear  an  aged  person  say  I  am  too  old  to  mend; 
this  would  sound  even  better  from  a  young  one. 
Youth  is  so  lovely,  and  the  body  is  then  so  perfect, 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  219 

that  were  the  mind  equally  so,  the  passions  which 
such  an  assemblage  must  excite  would  be  too  vehe- 
ment; but  when  the  graces  of  youth  begin  to  wither, 
the.i  surely  it  is  high  time  to  labour  after  moral  and 
intellectual  qualities,  and  endeavour  to  compensate 
for  the  loss  of  beauty  by  the  acquirement  of  merit." 

An  amusing  story  is  told  of  3Ioliere.  He  was  in 
the  habit  of  reading  his  plays  to  an  old  servant;  and 
once  endeavoured  to  puzzle  her  by  reciting  one  written 
by  another  person,  pretending  it  was  his  own:  in  a 
few  minutes,  however,  she  roundly  told  her  master, 
"  Slie  was  not  to  be  tricked  in  that  way,  for  she  was 
sure  the  play  was  none  of  his." 

Moliere  commenced  a  translation  of  Lucretius,  but, 
unfortunately,  his  servant  took  some  of  the  sheets 
for  curling-papers,  which  threw  him  into  such  a  pas- 
sion that  he  destroyed  the  remainder. 

Rapin  admired  Moliere  excessively;  so  much  so, 
that  the  king  asking  him  one  day,  *•'  Who  was  the 
chief  of  all  the  excellent  writers  of  which  France 
could  boast  in  his  reign?"  he  answered,  "Moliere." 
"I  did  not  think  so,"  replied  the  king;  "but  you 
understand  these  matters  better  than  I." 

Upon  the  first  acting  of  the  Gentleman  Cit^  Louis, 
who,  as  usual,  was  present  at  the  representation,  not 
having  passed  any  opinion  upon  it,  his  courtiers,  one 
and  ail,  talked  of  it  with  the  utmost  contempt;  and 
it  was  every  where  decried  with  such  acrimony,  that 
poor  Moliere  was  ashamed  to  show  his  face.     About 


220  BEAUTIES  or 

a  Week  after,  however,  the  play  was  again  perfoimed. 
The  king  sent  for  the  author,  and  said  to  him,  "  If  I 
was  silent  on  the  first  performance  of  your  piece,  it 
was  because  I  feared  it  might  deceive  me  ;  but  indeed, 
Moliere,  you  have  never  better  diverted  me — the  play 
is  admirable  !"  After  this,  the  courtiers  talked  as  if 
they  could  never  sufficiently  praise  what  they  had 
been  condemning  all  the  week ! 

LOUIS  THE  FIFTEENTH 

The  great-grandson  of  Louis  the  Fourteenth,  at  the 
age  of  five  years  was  called  to  the  throne  of  France, 
on  the  1st  of  September,  1715 — the  Duke  of  Orleans, 
having  been  appointed  by  the  will  of  the  late  king, 
President  of  the  Council  of  Regency.  The  duke  was 
one  of  the  most  unprincipled  men  of  the  age,  and  the 
suspicions  that  existed  against  him  relative  to  the 
death  of  the  dauphin  and  dauphincss,aflbrd  sufficient 
evidence  of  the  estimation  in  which  his  character  was 
held  by  the  people  and  the  court.  Yet  he  had  no 
sooner  entered  upon  office,  than  he  obtained  power 
enough  to  do  away  with  all  the  restrictions  by  which 
the  appointment  was  accompanied,  and  to  set  aside 
the  testament  itself.  "  I  consent  to  be  restrained  from 
evil,"  said  he,  in  addressing  the  parliament ;  "  but  in 
doing  good  I  desire  to  be  independent  and  free." 

For  a  time,  his  administration  of  affairs  was  mo- 
dest and  promising  ;  the  mornings  of  the  day  he  devo- 
ted to  business,  and  the  evenings  to  pleasure.     But 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  221 

when  the  necessary  labours  had  termhiated,  he  rush- 
ed with  eagerness  to  the  parties  that  joined  him  in 
the  dissipation  and  debaucheries  of  the  night.  The 
manners  of  the  court  underwent  a  total  change  ;  the 
rigid  attention  to  religious  forms  and  superstitious 
rites,  the  hypocrisy  and  outward  moral  decorum, 
which  characterized  the  court  of  Louis  the  Fourteenth 
in  the  latter  part  of  his  reign,  gave  way  to  a  contempt 
of  religion,  licentiousness,  and  undisguised  vice. 
Some  degree  of  irregularity,  were  it  only  profane 
swearing,  was  reckoned  a  necessary  recommendation 
to  royal  favour.  When  the  evening  parties  of  the 
regent  were  assembled,  the  doors  were  closely  shut; 
no  intrusion  whatsoever  was  permitted,  however 
urgent  the  occasion  ;  and  drinking  and  dissoluteness 
were  carried  to  excess,  until  an  early  hour  of  the 
morning.  Yet,  it  is  wonderful,  that  the  Duke  of 
Orleans  never  neglected  the  business  and  duties  of 
the  day,  but,  however  indisposed  and  incapable  he 
might  be  for  serious  deliberation,  he  sat  in  the  coun- 
cils, and  went  through  the  ordinary  routine  o(  public 
aflaire. 

Such  a  man  was,  indeed,  unfit  to  be  intrusted  with 
a  charge  so  important  as  that  of  the  political  and  moral 
education  of  an  infant  king.  Tlie  Duchess  de  Ven- 
tadour,  however,  had  been  appointed  governess  to  the 
young  prince;  a  duty  for  which  she  was  in  every  re- 
spect, well  qualified,  and  which  she  discharged  with 
a  good  conscience,  and  to  the  satisiaction  of  all  parties. 
19* 


222 


BEADTIES  OF 


In  the  year  1723,  Louis  became  of  regal  Age ;  as- 
sumed the  reins  of  government,  nominally,  into  his 
own  hands  ]  and  appointed  the  Duke  of  Orleans  his 
prime  minister  ;  who,  however,  lived  but  a  few  months 
after  the  change.  His  successor  to  the  high  office 
was  the  Duke  of  Bourbon,  the  chief  of  the  house  of 
Conde  ;  one  of  the  first  acts  of  whose  administration 
was,  the  issue  of  an  edict  against  the  Huguenots,  pro- 
hibiting them,  under  the  severest  penahies,  from  en- 
joying the  public  exercise  of  their  religion,  enjoining 
them  to  educate  their  children  as  Catholics,  and  brand- 
ing with  infamy  the  memory  of  those  who  had  died 
without  the  pale  of  the  Catholic  faith.  But  Fleiiry, 
the  king's  preceptor,  who  had  gradually  insinuated 
himself  into  tiie  favour  and  confidence  of  his  royal 
pupil,  undermined  the  influence  and  authority  of  the 
Duke  of  Bourbon,  and  was  in  the  end  made  prime 
minister  in  his  room,  at  the  age  of  seventy-lhree. 
Under  his  wise  and  equitable  administration,  the  king- 
dom of  France  recovered  its  prosperity  and  strength; 
domestic  and  foreign  credit  was  re-established:  com- 
merce and  manufactures  revived,  and  agriculture  flour- 
ished throughout  the  comitry. 

hi  1723,  Louis  had  married  the  daughter  of  Stan- 
islaus, king  of  Poland,  and  about  six  years  afterwards 
she  gave  birth  to  a  son,  an  event  which  caused  the 
most  lively  joy  to  the  whole  court  and  kingdom. 
The  queen  was  beautiful,  amiable,  and  accomplished; 
and  the  king  continued  many  years  a  chaste  and  af- 


FRENCH   HISTORr.  223 

fectionate  husband  ;  but  an  unhappy  difTerence  at  last 
took  place,  which  alienated  him  from  the  prudent 
and  devout  daughter  of  Stanislaus,  lie  then  attached 
himself  to  Madame  de  Mailly ;  and  became  addicted 
to  wine  and  private  gossiping,  unworthy,  not  merely 
of  a  monarch,  but  of  a  man.  In  the  year  1743,  he 
sustained  a  severe  loss  in  ttie  death  of  Cardinal  Fleuiy, 
who  had  pursued  a  wise  and  prosperous  course  of 
policy  in  the  conduct  of  public  affairs  during  a  period 
of  seventeen  years.  The  great  error  in  the  life  of  this 
able  minister  and  excellent  man  was,  that  he  became 
the  head  of  a  party  against,  and  a  zealous  persecutor 
of,  the  Jansenists,  a  sect  which  was  very  numerous 
and  possessed  of  considerable  power  in  France.  They 
were  favoured,  as  many  of  them  believed,  with  the 
direct  interposition  and  testimony  of  Heaven,  by  the 
miracles  which  were  supposed  to  have  been  wrought 
in  their  behalf  in  the  burying-ground  of  St.  Medard, 
at  the  tomb  of  a  sainted  abbot.  Even  there,  however, 
the  influence  of  the  cardinal  prevailed  ;  for  by  an  order 
from  the  king,  the  miraculous  place  of  sepulture  was 
closed,  and  the  performance  of  wonders  consequently 
stayed.  On  the  next  morning  the  following  blasphe- 
mous inscription  was  found  posted  on  the  gate  of 
the  burial-ground  : — "  By  the  king's  authority,  the 
Almighty  is  forbidden  to  work  any  more  miracles 
here." 

Upon  the  death  of  his  prime  minister,  Louis,  like 
many  of  his  predecessors,  resolved  and  declared  that 


224  BEAUTIES  OP 

he  would  himself  govern  his  kingdom.  At  this  time, 
Europe  was  in  a  very  inflammable  state ;  France  and 
England  were  at  war,  and  the  French  commander,  the 
Duke  de  Noailles,  was  preparing  to  meet  the  English 
forces  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Mayne.  'I'he 
memorable  battle  of  Dettingen  was  fought  on  the 
26th  of  June,  1743. 

On  the  5ih  of  January,  1757,  as  Louis  was  stepping 
into  his  coach,  aljout  six  o'clock  in  the  evening,  on 
his  way  to  sup  and  sleep  at  Trianon,  he  was  struck 
on  the  right  side  between  the  ribs.  He  immediately 
recognized  the  regicide,  and  said,  "  There  is  the  man  : 
seize  him,  but  do  him  no  harm."  The  king  was  put 
to  bed,  and  became  apprehensive  of  death  •,  but  the 
next  day,  the  surgeon  found,  on  dressing  the  wound, 
that  it  was  neither  deep,  nor  attended  with  danger. 
The  body  guards,  who  first  apprehended  Damiens, 
supposing  that  he  must  be  the  agent  of  some  club  of 
conspirators,  employed  torture  to  make  him  confess 
who  had  incited  him  to  perpetrate  the  deed.  Fie  was 
afterwards  taken  out  of  their  hands,  and  examined  in 
a  more  regular  and  solemn  manner,  for  the  space  of 
'two  hours,  in  a  way  the  most  exquisitely  painful ;  but 
it  appeared  that  he  had  no  accomplices,  and  had  been 
moved  by  his  own  imagination  to  relieve  the  people 
from  all  their  troubles,  as  he  supposed  by  assassin- 
ating, or  at  least  terrifying,  their  oppressor. 

The  punishment  inflicted  on  him  at  last  was  of  the 
most  dreadful  kind.     His  right  hand  was  consumed; 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  225 

he  was  torn  with  pincers  ;  melted  lead  was  poured  into 
his  wounds ;  then  he  was  drawn  and  quartered,  and 
finally  burnt,  and  his  ashes  scattered  to  the  winds. 
His  father,  wife,  and  daughter,  were  banished  from 
the  kingdom. 

In  1765,  France  sustained  a  severe  loss  by  the  death 
of  the  dauphin;  whose  eldest  son  had  died  about 
twelve  months  previously.  This  most  interesting 
and  promising  youth  had  received  a  contusion  by  a 
fall  at  play  with  a  boy  of  his  own  age ;  and  generously, 
but  thoughtlessly,  concealed  that  he  had  been  hurt, 
until  a  tumour  appeared,  and  an  operation  became 
necessary.  He  then  disclosed  the  cause,  but  never 
revealed  the  name  of  him  by  whom  he  had  been  un- 
intentionally injured.  He  languished  in  great  suffer- 
ing for  above  a  year,  at  the  end  of  which  time  he  ex- 
pired. 

Immediately  on  the  death  of  the  dauphin,  his  son, 
the  Duke  de  Berri — (afterwards  Louis  the  Sixteenth) 
was  declared  to  inherit  that  distinction.  He  was  born 
at  Versailles  on  the  23d  of  August,  1744,  and  was 
married,  in  1770,  to  the  archduchess,  Maria  Antoin- 
ette, a  daughter  of  the  house  of  Austria.  The  nuptials 
were  celebrated  with  great  splendour;  but  with  a 
lavish  and  prodigal  expenditure,  considering  the  ex- 
hausted state  of  the  public  finances.  Thirty  thou- 
sand horses  are  said  to  have  been  employed  in  Maria 
Antoinette's  journey,  and  sixty  new  carriages  formed 
a  part  of  the  train  which  was  to  conduct  her  from 


226  BEAUTIES  OP 

Strasburg  to  Paris.  The  dresses  and  entertainments 
on  the  road  were  proportionably  sumptuous  and 
costly.  At  an  entertainment  given  by  the  iving,  he 
shamelessly  introduced  his  mistress  to  the  dauphiness, 
who  was  ignorant  of  her  real  condition  and  character; 
but  pleased  with  the  handsome  appearance,  and  mo- 
dest and  elegant  manners,  which  the  favourite  knew 
so  well  how  to  assume.  During  the  entertainments 
that  took  place,  a  fatal  accident  occurred ;  which,  when 
recollected  in  after  times,  was  held  to  have  been  omin- 
ous. An  immense  crowd,  supposed  to  have  exceed- 
ed 600,000,  assembled  to  witness  the  exhibition  of 
fire-works,  in  the  vast  square  around  the  statute  of  the 
king,  and  were  proceeding  through  a  wide  street, 
when  some  obstruction  stayed  them.  The  multitude 
behind  pressed  against  those  before,  and  overwhelmed 
and  trampled  on  them  :  one  hundred  and  thirty  per- 
sons perished  on  the  spot.  Many  more  were  so 
bruised  that  they  died  shortly  afterwards;  and,  alto- 
gether, about  J 200  are  said  to  have  lost  their  lives. 
The  dauphin  and  dauphiness  were  deeply  distressed 
by  this  event,  of  v.'hich  they  were  the  innocent  cause, 
and  did  all  in  their  power  to  alleviate  the  affliction 
of  the  sufferers. 

The  death  of  the  king  took  place  on  the  10th  of 
May,  1774,  in  consequence  of  an  attack  of  the  small- 
pox, the  virulence  of  which  his  debilitated  constitu- 
tion was  unable  to  withstand.  Louis  was  almost 
sixty  years  of  age  when  he  died;  and  although  he 


FRENCH   HISTORV.  227 

had  governed  France  nearly  the  whole  of  his  life, 
yet  his  reputation  is  one  of  which  his  country  has 
no  reason  to  be  proud.  He  was  despised,  if  not  de- 
tested, by  his  subjects  ;  his  attachment  to  unprincipled 
and  profligate  women  stifled  all  that  might  have  been 
naturally  good  in  his  disposition  ;  and  he  left  scarcely 
a  single  human  being  to  mourn  over  him. 

A  train  had  certainly  been  laid  during  the  nial-ad- 
niinistration  of  this  weak  and  enervated  monarch, 
which  was  rapidly  spreading,  and  threatening  to  des- 
troy the  great  principle  that  binds  alike  the  sovereign 
to  the  subject,  and  the  subject  to  the  sovereign.  The 
minds  of  the  people  were  gradually  influenced  by  the 
writings  and  reasonings  of  men  of  richly-endowed  in- 
tellects, but  without  virtue  or  religion.  Glowing  pic- 
tures were  exhibited  of  the  evils  arising  from  civil  and 
religious  restraint,  which  was  denominated  bondage; 
and  of  the  inestimable  blessings  of  moral  and  political 
lihcrly — a  word  that  has  been  so  frequently  used  to 
stimulate  men  to  the  commission  of  deeds  at  wiiich 
human  nature  shudders.  At  the  head  of  those  who 
pushed  on  the  people  to  discontent,  v.hich  led  to  re- 
bellion, and  then  to  atrocities  incredible,  but  that  the 
living  witnesses  of  them  are  still  among  us,  were 
Voltaire  and  Rousseau.  The  genius  of  the  former, 
his  extensive  erudition,  his  eloquence,  and  his  wit,  all 
contributed  to  forward  the  grand  object,  for  the  ac- 
complishment of  which  he  spoke  and  wrote  \  and  un- 
happdy,  the  progress  of  infidelity  found  at  that  lims 


228 


BEAUTIES  OP 


a  powerful  auxiliary  in  the  abandoned  debauchery 
of  the  court,  and  the  props  of  tyranny  were  impaired 
by  the  very  efforts  employed  to  render  them  more 
fixed  and  durable. 

Tlie  talents  of  Rousseau,  though  very  different  from 
those  of  Voltaire,  were  of  a  pernicious  nature,  and 
perhaps  contributed  even  more  than  his  to  the  gene- 
ral depravity  that  ensued.  He  seduced  and  corrupted, 
while  his  literary  rival  reasoned  and  convinced. 
His  object  was  to  sap  the  very  foundations  of  the 
building,  which  the  other,  less  insidious,  dared  to 
storm  and  destroy.  They  succeeded  to  the  utmost 
extent  that  malevolence  could  desire ;  and  Diderot, 
D'Alembert,  and  others,  who  have  rendered  their 
names  at  once  famous  and  infamous,  devoted  them- 
selves to  the  dissemination  of  atheistical  principles, 
and  taught  men  to  believe  that  they  should  obey  no 
will  but  their  own  passions,  and  submit  to  no  con- 
trol but  their  own  naturally  base  or  shamefully  per- 
verted appetites. 

It  is  not  therefore  matter  of  astonishment,  that  within 
a  short  period  after  the  poison  had  been  administered, 
the  whole  body  became  corrupt.  The  French  Revo- 
lution will  be  remembered  while  the  world  endures, 
lo  sliow  how  completely  men  may  become  fiends, 
and  how  far  reality  may  exceed  all  that  the  imagina- 
tion can  portray  of  the  horrible  and  the  unnatural. 


FRENCH    HISTORY. 


229 


LOUIS  THE   SIXTEENTH, 

Grandson  of  Louis  the  Fifteenth,  inherited  the  crown 
of  France  on  the  1 0th  of  May,  ]  774.  On  receiving  the 
unwelcome  intelligence  that  he  was  a  king,  he  is  said 
to  have  exclaimed,  almost  prophetically — "  Oh !  God  ! 
what  a  misfortune  for  me  !" 

This  kind  and  benevolent  monarch  commenced  his 
reign  with  a  firm  determination  to  be  not  nominally, 
but  in  reality,  "the  father  of  his  people."     He  im- 
mediately abolished  the  corvee,  or  compulsatory  repa- 
ration of  the  highway,  a  service  for  which  the  labour- 
ers received  no  pay  ;  removed  the  barriers  between  the 
different  provinces,  repealed  all  the  internal  taxes  on 
the    transit   of  commodities    from  one  province  to 
another,  and  issued  a  decree  for  the  free  commerce 
of  grain  throughout  his  dominions.     Many  of  the 
disabilities  under  which  the  Protestants  had  so  long 
laboured  w^ere  repealed ;  the  expenses  of  the  royal 
household   were   considerably  diminished;    several 
sinecure  places  gradually  ceased  to  be  public  burdens; 
and  provincial  assemblies  were  instituted,  composed 
of  members  freely  elected  from  among  the  nobility, 
the  clergy,  and  the  commons,  whose  duty  it  was 
to   communicate  to  the  crown  the  sentiments  and 
grievances  (if  any  existed)  of  the  people  in  their  re- 
spective provinces;  to  point  out  such  taxes  as  might 
be  vexatious,  and  to  remedy  all  abuses  in  collecting 
them.    Such  a  course  of  policy  was  calculated  to 
restore  public  credit  and  confidence,  rather  than  to 
20 


230 


BEAUTIES  OF 


destroy  both  ;  but,  in  an  evil  hour  for  himself  and  his 
country,  Louis  yielded  a  reluctant  consent  to  tlio  mea- 
sure for  supporting  the  American  colonies,  in  their 
contest  with  the  mother-country ;  and  thus  became 
the  chief  accelerating  cause  of  subsequent  calamities, 
by  increasing  the  derangement  of  the  national  linan- 
ces,  and  by  spreading  the  spirit  of  republicanism 
among  his  army,  and,  through  it,  over  all  France. 

We  pass  over  the  period  of  the  French  Revolution, 
which  furnishes  but  few  of  the  Beauties  of  French 
History,  in  order  to  arrive  at  the  brilliant  period  when 
Napoleon  elevated  the  martial  character  of  the  French 
people  to  a  point  it  had  never  reached  before.  Our 
limits  will  permit  us  to  give  only  a  few  detached  an- 
dotes  illustrative  of  his  brilliant  career. 

ANECDOTES  OF  .\AP0LEON. 

The  Bailie  of  Lodi. 

The  bridge  of  Lodi  gives  name  lo  an  action  diat 
took  place  there  between  the  French  and  the  .Austri- 
ans,  in  ]797,  and  which  decided  the  fate  of  the  Italian 
campaign. 

It  was  an  object  with  Bonaparte,  to  force  tlie  bridge 
of  Lodi,  which  crosses  the  Adda  at  a  place  vvhere  the 
river  is  about  two  hundred  yards  broad,  and  the 
breadth  of  the  bridge  is  about  ten.  A  battery  of  can- 
non commanded  the  whole  length  of  it  by  a  raking 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  231 

fire,  while  other  batteries,  above  and  below,  threat- 
ened destruction  to  any  force  that  should  attempt  to 
cross. 

Without  losing  a  moment,  though  it  was  late  in 
the  evening  when  he  arrived  at  Lodi,  Napoleon  or- 
dered tiie  passage  to  be  attempted ;  and  a  column  of 
the  French,  headed  by  their  principal  general  oQlcers, 
persevering  under  a  deadly  fire,  this  most  singular  in- 
stance of  military  enthusiasm  and  daring  was  crowned 
with  complete  success. 

J^apoleoii's  presence  of  mind  at  the  Bridge  of  Lodi. 

At  this  memorable  passage,  it  was  not  less  the  cele- 
rity and  promptitude  of  movement,  than  invincible 
heroism,  that  carried  the  day.  The  fire  of  the  enemy, 
who  defended  the  passage  with  thirty  pieces  of  can- 
non, was  terrible ;  the  head  of  the  charging  column 
of  the  French  appeared  to  give  way ;  "  a  moment  of 
hesitation,"  says  Bonaparte,  in  his  official  despatch 
on  the  occasion,  "  would  have  lost  all.  Generals 
Berthier,  Massena,  Cervoni,  D'AUemagne,  the  chief 
of  brigade,  Lannes,  and  the  chief  of  battalion,  Dupat, 
dashed  forwards  at  its  head,  and  determined  the  fate 
of  the  day,  still  wavering  in  the  balance."  Bonaparte 
does  not  include  his  own  name  in  the  list  of  this 
heroic  band,  though  well  known  to  have  been  one 
of  the  foremost  in  the  charge;  the  modesty  which 
dictated  this  concealment,  even  his  revilers  must  ad- 


23S  BEAUTIES  OP 

mire.  "This'  redoubtable  column,"  he  continues, 
"  overturned  all  opposed  to  it;  Beaulieu's  order  of 
battle  was  broken ;  astonishment,  flight,  and  death, 
were  spread  on  all  sides.  In  the  twinkling  of  an  eye, 
the  enemy's  army  was  scattered  in  confusion." 

"  Although,"  he  continues,  "  since  the  commence- 
ment of  the  campaign  we  have  had  some  very  -warm 
aflairs,  and  although  the  army  has  often  beei'.  pnder 
the  necessity  of  acting  with  great  audacity,  -.o'.hing 
has  occurred  which  can  be  compared  to  the  iemble 
passage  of  the  Bridge  of  Lodi. 

"  Our  loss  has  been  small:  and  this  we  one  to  the 
promptitude  of  the  execution,  and  to  the  sucicien  eflect 
which  the  charge  of  this  intrepid  column  produced 
on  the  enemy." 

The  Bridge  of  Areola. 

The  passage  of  the  bridge  of  Areola  may  be  es- 
teemed the  height  of  boldness.  Thousands  of  men 
and  musketry  served  to  defend  the  approach  to  this 
particular  spot,  which  was  completely  fenced  by  can- 
non in  every  direction  ;  thrice  had  General  Bonaparte 
commanded  the  charge  in  person,  and  thrice  had  his 
followers,  disdaining  to  retreat,  fallen  sacrifices  to 
their  temerity;  the  death-dealing  bullets  continued 
their  destructive  career,  levelling  all  those  who  dared 
to  encounter  their  vengeful  flight.  Napoleon,  at  length 
growing  indignant,  gave  utterance  to  an  exclamation 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  233 

of  fury,  and  instantly  tearing  one  of  the  standards 
from  the  grasp  of  an  ensign,  sprang  upon  this  bridge, 
the  scene  of  carnage  and  slaughter;  when,  planting 
the  flag  in  defiance  of  destiny  itself,  which  seemed  to 
oppose  him,  he  thus  addressed  his  soldiers — 

"  Frenchmen  !  Grenadiers !  M'ill  you,  then,  abandon 
your  colours !" 

This  appeal  seemed  to  convey  a  reproach  ill  adapt- 
ed to  the  spirit  of  such  courageous  men  ;  wherefore, 
before  the  General  was  enabled  repeat  them,  all 
thought  of  danger  had  vanished,  death  was  faced  in 
every  direction,  the  bridge  of  Areola  was  forced,  and 
victory  once  more  crowned  the  republican  standard. 

The  Pioneer. 

In  delivering  his  orders,  the  General,  with  that 
presence  of  mind  which  is  uniformly  the  precursor 
of  victory,  presented  himself  in  person  at  every  point 
where  danger  appeared  to  threaten  the  most,  and  thus 
exposed  himself  like  the  common  soldier. 

Upon  one  of  these  occasions  a  pioneer,  perceivmg 
the  imminent  risk  Napoleon  ran,  thus  addressed  him 
in  the  unsophisticated  language  of  a  camp — "  Stand 
aside  !■" — General  Bonaparte,  fixing  his  eyes  upon 
him,  hesitated,  when  the  veteran,  ludely  pushing  him, 
addressed  Napoleon  in  these  words,  which  were  ex- 
pressive of  the  greatest  compliment  that  could  possi- 
bly be  paid  to  his  talents  as  a  military  commander  : 
20* 


234  BEAUTIES  OF 

"  If  thou  art  killed,  who  is  to  rescue  us  from  this 
jeopardy  ?" 

Bonaparte  instantly  appreciated  the  sterling  value 
of  this  exclamation,  and  consequently  remained  si- 
lent; but,  after  the  termination  of  the  conflict,  which 
proved  favourable  to  the  republican  flag,  he  ordered 
this  independant  pioneer  to  be  brought  into  his  pre- 
sence, when,  familiarly  tapping  him  upon  the  shoulder, 
he  thus  addressed  him  : 

"Thy  noble  boldness  claims  my  esteem;  thy 
bravery  demands  a  recompense ;  from  this  hour,  in- 
stead of  the  hatchet,  an  epaulette  shall  grace  thy 
shoulder." 

He  was,  of  course,  immediately  raised  to  the  rank 
of  an  officer. 

Milan. 

On  the  evening  of  the  day  previous  to  the  taking 
of  the  city  of  Milan,  General  Bonaparte,  being  then 
commander-in-chief  of  the  army  of  Italy,  was  en- 
gaged to  dine  at  the  mansion  of  a  lady  of  conse- 
quence. This  personage,  considering  the  distinguish- 
ed rank,  and  above  all,  the  illustrious  name  of  her 
guest,  conducted  the  honours  of  her  table  with  the 
greatest  attention  and  politeness.  Napoleon,  however, 
being  fully  occupied  with  the  momentous  events  that 
were  to  characterize  the  succeeding  day,  replied  with 
coldness  and  brevity  to  the  repeated  marks  of  deference 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  235 

"which  the  hostess  pointedly  expressed  towards  him; 
who,  at  length,  in  order  to  give  animation  to  the  com- 
pany, requested  to  know  Bonaparte's  age,  adding  by 
way  of  palliation  of  the  apparent  rudeness  of  the  in- 
quiry. 

"  That  he  appeared  by  far  too  young  to  have  al- 
ready gained  so  many  laurels !" 

"  Truly,  madam,"  answered  the  General  with  a 
smile,  "  I  am  not  indeed  very  old  at  the  present 
moment ;  but  in  less  than  twenty-four  hours  1  shall 
count  much  more,  for  to-day  I  have  to  number  twenty- 
five  years,  whereas  to-morrow  1  shall  have  attained 
Milan"  (mille-ans),  a  thousand  years. 

The  Sleeping  Sentinel. 

The  army  of  Italy,  under  General  Bonaparte,  having 
been  engaged  against  the  Austrians  during  a  whole 
day,  at  length  terminated  the  battle,  by  gaining  a 
complete  victory,  at  the  very  moment  when  the 
declining  sun  threw  a  parting  gleam  upon  the  western 
horizon.  During  the  period  of  this  conflict,  and  the 
two  foregoing  days,  the  troops  had  not  tasted  repose, 
and  the  complete  flight  of  the  enemy,  at  this  particular 
juncture,  was  therefore  the  more  fortunate,  as  the 
French  were  thus  enabled  to  enjoy  that  repose  during 
the  night,  of  which  they  most  gladly  took  the  advan- 
tage. 

Notwithstanding  this  harrassed  state  of  the  array,  it 


236 


BEAUTIES  OP 


was  necessary  to  establish  outposts  ;  when  a  grena- 
dier, stationed  upon  this  service,  which  precluded  the 
idea  of  rest,  being  quite  exhausted  with  fatigue,  fell 
fast  asleep  at  his  post. 

Napoleon,  who  offered  up  his  own  repose  as  a  sacri- 
fice to  the  more  imperious  calls  of  promptitude  and 
glory,  proceeded,  alone,  to  visit  the  outskirts  of  the 
camp,  and  in  this  survey  arrived  at  the  spot  where 
lay  extended  the  sleeping  sentinel,  who  could  hardly 
be  deemed  guilty  of  a  breach  of  duty,  but  the  un- 
willing victim  of  extreme  fatigue,  that  totally  over- 
powered him. 

Bonaparte,  unmindful  of  his  dignity,  and  actuated 
only  by  noble  motives,  took  up  the  soldier's  musket, 
which  lay  beside  him  ;  wlien,  placing  it  upon  his  own 
shoulder,  he  continued  to  mount  guard  for  nearly  an 
hour,  in  order  to  insure  the  safety  of  the  camp.  The 
grenadier  at  length  awoke,  and  sought  for  his  piece 
in  vain,  but,  by  the  light  of  the  moon,  perceived  the 
general,  who  had  thus  paid  respect  to  his  repose. 

"  Oh  I  I  am  undone  !"  vociferated  the  soldier,  re- 
cognising Napoleon,  whose  lineaments  were  graven 
upon  the  heart  of  every  soldier. 

"  No,  my  friend,"  replied  the  general,  with  ex- 
treme affability,  at  the  same  time  surrendering  up  his 
musket,  "  the  battle  was  obstinate  and  long  enough 
contested  to  excuse  your  having  thus  yielded  to  the 
impulse  of  fatigue  ;  one  moment  of  inattention,  how- 
ever, might  endanger  the  safety  of  the  camp;  I  was 


FRENCH    HISTORT.  237 

awake,  and  have  only  to  advise,  that  you  would  be 
more  upon  your  guard  for  the  future !" 

Le  Petit  Caporal. 

A  singular  custom  was  established  in  the  army  of 
Italy,  in  consequence  of  the  youth  of  the  commander, 
or  from  some  other  cause.  After  each  battle,  the 
oldest  soldiers  used  to  hold  a  council,  and  confer  a 
new  rank  on  their  young  general,  who,  when  he 
made  his  appearance  in  the  camp,  was  received  by 
the  veterans,  and  saluted  with  his  new  tide.  They 
made  him  a  corporal  at  Lodi,  and  a  serjeant  at  Cas- 
tiglione;  and  hence  the  surname  of  "  Petit  Caporal," 
which  was  for  a  long  time  applied  to  Napoleon  by 
the  soldiers.  How  subtle  is  the  chain  which  unites 
the  most  trivial  circumstances  to  the  most  important 
events  !  Perhaps  this  very  nickname  contributed  to 
his  miraculous  success  on  his  return  in  1815.  While 
he  was  haranguing  the  first  battalion,  which  he  found 
it  necessary  to  address,  a  voice  from  the  ranks  ex- 
claimed, •'  Vive  notre  petit  Caporal !  we  will  never 
fight  against  him !" 

The  Restorer  of  the  City  of  Lyons. 

On  Bonaparte's  return  from  the  second  campaign 
of  Italy,  he  passed  through  Lyons,  on  the  ninth  Mes- 
sidor,  the  eighth  year  of  the  republic.     It  was  his 


238  BEAUTIES  OP 

wish  to  continue  incognito,  in  order  to  escape  the 
honours  and  the  fetes  intended  for  him;  but  all  his 
precautions  were  of  no  avail;  the  report  of  his  being 
in  the  city  spread  itself  in  all  directions,  and  the  pop- 
ulace in  crowds  appeared  in  the  streets,  on  the  quays, 
in  the  promenades,  and  mounted  on  the  house-tops, 
crying  :  "  It  is  Bonaparte  !  Long  live  Bonaparte  !" 
these  applauses  being  prolonged  until  night,  with 
which  were  mingled  the  incessant  discharges  of  artil- 
lery. 

During  the  nights  of  the  ninth  and  tenth,  a  bronze 
medal  was  struck  in  haste  and  presented  to  ihe  con- 
queror of  Italy  ;  and  on  the  morning  of  the  last  men- 
tioned day,  he  repaired  to  the  Square  of  Bellecour, 
amidst  an  escort  of  upwards  of  fifty  thousand  Lyon- 
ese.  Upon  this  occasion  he  laid  the  first  stone,  and 
thus  commenced  the  rebuilding  of  the  city,  whicli  had 
been  almost  entirely  demolished,  by  order  of  the  co- 
median, Collot  D'lierbois.  Previous  to  the  deposit- 
ing of  the  stone,  he  took  it  in  his  hand,  smiling,  and 
assured  the  inhabitants  of  Lyons,  that  this  Square 
should  very  soon  recover  all  its  former  splendour, 
and  that  the  manufactories  of  Lyons,  which  were 
then  reduced  to  four  thousand  workmen,  should 
speedily  be  augmented  to  twenty-five  thousand  ;  after 
which  he  deposited  the  medal,  which  was  enclosed 
in  a  leaden  case,  beneath  the  foundation  of  the  new 
structure  ;  the  bronze  in  question  bearing  this  inscrip- 
tion : 


FRKNCH   HISTORY.  239 

To  Buonaparte 

The  Restorer  ol  Lyons  ", 

Veniinac  Prelt'ct. 

In  the  name  of  the  greatlul  Lyonese. 

On  the  other  side  appeared,  encircled  by  a  coronet 
of  oak, 

Twice  Victor  at  Marengo, 

Conqueror  of  Italy. 

He  deposiied  this  Stone 

The  lOih  Messidor,  An.  VIII. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  ceremony,  Napoleon  re- 
paiied  to  the  hotel  of  the  Prefect,  where  a  sumptuous 
breakfast  was  prepared.  Me  proved  as  amiable  at 
table,  as  he  was  terrible  in  the  field  ;  and  it  was  justly 
said  of  this  repast :  "Thai  liere  was  .Alexander  feasting 
with  bis  friends,  on  the  day  when  he  founded  Alex- 
andria." 

The  Ballk  of  Marevgn. 

Tliis  conflict  was  undoubtedly  that  in  which  Bo- 
naparte displayed  the  most  brilliant  proofs  of  mili- 
tavy  capacity ;  for  on  that  momentous  day,  lie  mani- 
fesled  the  consummate  tactics  of  a  great  commander; 
neillier  was  there  any  deficiency  of  those  traits  of 
heroism  which  history  always  loves  to  record,  and 
which  must  descend  to  the  remotest  posterity.  It 
was  during  this  battle,  which  might  be  justly  termed 
the  modern  Pharsalia,  that  Napoleon  preserved,  amidst 


240  BEAUTIES  OF 

the  tumultuous  din  of  arms,  and  an  army  almost  com- 
pletely routed,  that  coolness  and  certain  dependance 
upon  self,  which  were  the  fruit  of  long  military  ex- 
perience, and  the  characteristic  of  the  truly  brave. 

As  soon  as  the  divisions  of  Lemonier  and  Desaix 
had  arrived,  Bonaparte  repaired  to  range  them  in  order 
for  battle;  but,  as  the  enemy's  forces  were  greatly 
superior  in  number  to  those  of  the  French,  the  latter 
began  to  give  way,  and  retreat,  which,  being  perceived 
by  Napoleon,  he  gallopped  to  the  front  of  the  ranks, 
exclaiming: — "Frenchmen!  remember  my  custom  is 
to  sleep  upon  the  field  of  battle." 

Berthier  on  arriving  to  acquaint  him  that  his  array 
began  to  be  put  to  the  rout,  he  made  this  answer: 
"  You  do  not  announce  that,  general,  in  cold  blood  !" 

During  the  hottest  period  of  the  action,  news  was 
brought  to  Bonaparte  that  Desaix  was  killed,  when 
he  only  uttered  these  words :  "Why  is  it  not  per- 
mitted me  to  weep  ?"  The  deceased  was  among  those 
generals  whom  he  held  in  the  highest  estimation. 

After  the  battle,  Bonaparte  happening  to  meet  a 
great  number  of  the  wounded,  made  the  following 
remark  in  tones  of  the  deepest  affliction :  "  We«cannot 
but  regret  not  being  wounded  like  them,  in  order  to 
participate  in  their  sufferings," 

Napoleon  wounded  in  Italy  and  other  places. 
It  has  been  said  that  Bonaparte  has  never  been 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  241 

"wounded.     This   is   not  the  fact,  for  Mr.  O'Meara 
says : — 

Napoleon  showed  me  the  marks  of  two  wounds ; 
one  a  very  deep  cicatrice  above  the  left  knee,  which 
he  said  he  had  received  in  his  first  campaign  of  Italy, 
and  was  of  so  serious  a  nature,  that  the  surgeons 
were  in  doubt  whether  it  might  not  be  ultimately 
necessary  to  amputate.  He  observed,  that  when  he 
was  wounded,  it  was  always  kept  a  secret,  in  order 
not  to  discourage  the  soldiers.  The  other  was  on 
the  toe,  and  had  been  received  at  Echmiilil.  "At  the 
siege  of  Acre,"  continued  he,  "  a  shell  thrown  by 
Sidney  Smith,  fell  at  my  feet.  Two  soldiers,  who 
were  close  by,  seized  and  closely  embraced  me,  one 
in  front,  and  one  on  the  other  side,  and  made  a  ram- 
part of  their  bodies  for  me,  against  the  effect  of  the 
shell,  which  exploded,  and  overwhelmed  us  with  sand. 
We  sunk  into  the  hole  formed  by  its  bursting;  one 
of  them  was  wounded.  I  made  them  both  officers. 
One  has  since  lost  a  leg  at  Moscow,  and  commanded 
at  Vincennes  when  1  left  Paris.  When  he  was  sum- 
moned by  the  Russians,  he  replied,  that  as  soon  as 
they  sent  him  back  the  leg  he  had  lost  at  Moscow, 
he  would  surrender  the  fortress.  Many  times  in  my 
life,"  continued  he,  "  have  I  been  saved  by  soldiers 
and  officers  throwing  themselves  before  me  when  I 
was  in  the  most  iminent  danger.  At  Areola,  when  I  was 
advancing,  Colonel  Meuron,  my  aid-de-camp,  threw 
himself  before  me,  covered  me  with  his  body,  and 
21 


242  BEAlT'l'IES  OP 

received  the  wound  which  was  destined  for  me.  Ile- 
feli  at  my  I'eet.  and  iiis  bloocl  spouted  up  in  my  face. 
He  gave  his  lile  to  preserve  mine.  Never,  yet,  I 
believe,  lias  there  been  such  devotion  shown  by  sol- 
diers as  mine  have  manil'estfd  lor  me.  In  all  my 
mi;  fortunes  never  has  the  soldier,  even  when  expiring, 
been  warning  to  me — never  has  man  been  served  more 
failhlully  by  his  troops.  With  the  last  drop  of  blood 
gushing  out  of  their  veins,  they  exclaimed  '•Vive 
I'Empereur ."  " 

Jiis  Generosily  to  Ike  Vcleran  General  Wurmscr. 

For  several  days  after  the  decisive  actions,  wiiich 
left  him  williout  a  shadow  of  hope  of  relief,  Wurmser 
continued  the  defei.ce  of  Mantua  in  a  sullen  yet  hon- 
ourable despair,  natural  to  the  feelings  of  a  gallant 
veteran,  who,  to  the  last,  hesitated  between  the  desire 
to  resist,  and  the  sense  that  resistance  was  absolutely 
hopeless.  At  length  he  sent  ids  aid-de-camp,  Klenaii, 
to  the  head-quarters  of  Serruiier,  who  commanded 
llie  blockade,  to  treat  of  a  surrender.  Klenau  used 
the  customary  language  on  such  occasions.  He  ex- 
patiated on  the  means  which  Mantua  still  possessed 
of  holding  out,  lint  said,  that,  as  Wurmser  doubted 
vhelher  the  place  could  be  relieved  in  time,  he  would 
regulate  his  conduct  as  to  the  immediate  submission,  or 
farther  defence,  according  to  the  conditions  of  surren- 
der to  which  the  French  general  was  willing  to  admit 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  243 

him.  A  French  ofTicer  of  distiuclion  was  present, 
mudled  in  his  cloaii,  and  remaining  apart  from  the 
two  officers,  but  within  hearing  of  what  had  passed. 
When  their  discussion  was  finished,  this  unlinown 
person  stepped  forward,  and,  taking  a  pen,  wrote 
down  the  concUtions  of  surrender  to  which  Wurmser 
was  to  be  admitted — conditions  more  honourable  and 
favourable  by  far  than  what  his  extremity  could  have 
exacted.  "These,"  said  the  unknown  officer  to 
Klenau,  "are  the  terms  which  Wurmser  may  accept 
at  present,  and  which  will  be  equally  tendered  to  him 
at  any  period  when  he  finds  farther  resistance  im- 
possible. We  are  aware  he  is  too  much  a  man  of 
honour  to  give  up  the  fortress  and  city,  so  long  and 
honourably  defended,  while  the  means  of  resistance 
remained  in  his  power.  If  he  delay  accepting  the 
conditions  for  a  week,  or  a  month,  or  two  months, 
they  shall  be  equally  his  when  he  chooses  to  accept 
them.  To-morrow  I  pass  the  Po,  and  march  upon 
Rome."  Klenau,  perceiving  that  he  spoke  to  the 
French  commander-in-chief,  frankly  admitted  that  the 
garrison  could  not  longer  delay  surrender,  having 
scarce  three  day's  provisions  unconsumed.  This 
trait  of  generosity  towards  a  gallant  but  unfortu- 
nate enemy,  was  highly  honourable  to  Napoleon. 
But  the  young  victor  paid  a  still  more  delicate  and 
noble  minded  compliment,  in  declining  to  be  person- 
ally present  when  the  veteran  Wurmser  had  the  mor- 
tification to  surrender  his  sword,  with  his  garrison 


244  BEAUTIES  OF 

of  twenty-thousand  men.  Such  self-denial  did  Na- 
poleon as  much  credit  nearly  as  his  victory.  His 
conduct  towards  Wurmser  may  be  justly  compared 
to  that  of  the  Black  Prince  to  his  royal  prisoner,  King 
John  of  France. 

Mount  St.  Bernard. 

The  campaigns  of  Italy,  under  the  Directory  and 
Consulate,  were  well  worth  all  the  imperial  battles 
fought  in  the  days  of  France's  splendid  degradation. 
The  pass  of  Mount  St.  Bernard  stands  unrivalled  in 
modern  military  history.  The  cannons  were  dragged 
up  the  heights  by  sheer  strength  of  arm,  by  efforts 
almost  superhuman.  Pecuniary  motives  for  exertion, 
proffered  by  the  general,  were  rejected  by  the  army. 
The  soldiers,  one  by  one,  climbed  through  the  cre- 
vices of  the  ice-rock,  and  in  five  hours  they  reached 
the  convent  of  St.  Peter.  The  descent  was  yet  more 
perilous.  The  infantry  cut  short  the  difficulty  by 
sliding  on  their  backs  down  the  ice.  "The  first 
consul  followed  their  example,  and,  in  the  sight  of 
his  army,  slided  down  a  height  of  two  hundred  feet !" 

Bonaparte,  before  his  departure  for  this  campaign, 
traced  a  slight  sketch  of  his  intended  operations  at  a 
private  house.  In  this  plan,  Millissimo  is  marked,  in 
the  confidence  of  success,  as  being  the  first  site  of  the 
defeat  of  the  enemy.  "  I  shall  drive,"  he  says,  "  the 
Austrians  from  the  passage  of  the  Tyrol ;"  and  ho 


FRENCH  HISTORY. 


245 


finishes  the  sketch  with  these  words:  "It  is  at  the 
gales  of  Vienna,  that  1  shall  give  you  peace."  Speak- 
ing afterwards  of  his  treaty  of  Millissimo,  he  said, 
"  this  was  the  strongest  sensation  of  my  life." 

His  Emplo^jmenl  of  Time. 

During  the  voyage  to  Egypt,  Bonaparte  was  con- 
tinually employed.  His  remarkable  sayings  to  the 
pupils  of  a  school  which  he  had  one  day  visited, 
"  Young  people,  every  hour  of  time  lost,  is  a  chance 
of  misfortune  for  future  life,"  may  be  considered  as, 
in  some  measure,  forming  the  rule  of  his  own  con- 
duct. Perhaps  no  man  ever  better  understood  the 
value  of  time  :  his  very  leisure  was  business.  If  the 
activity  of  his  mind  found  not  wherewithal  to  exercise 
itself  in  reality,  he  supplied  the  defect,  by  giving  free 
scope  to  his  imagination,  or  in  listening  to  the  con- 
versation of  the  learned  men  attached  to  the  expedi- 
tion ;  for  he  probably,  was  the  only  man  in  the  fleet 
who  never  experienced  ennui  for  a  single  moment. 

His  Proclamation  before  landing  in  Egypt. 

"'Soldiers! — You  are  about  to  undertake  a  can- 
quest,  the  effects  of  which,  upon  the  civilization  and 
conmierce  of  the  world,  are  incalculable.  Yoii  will 
strike  a  blow,  the  surest  and  most  vital  which  England 
cap  receive,  until  you  give  her  her  death-stroke. 
21* 


d46  BEAUTIES  OF 

We  shall  have  to  make  some  fatiguing  marches ;  to 
engage  in  a  few  combats ;  but  success  will  crown 
our  exertions.  Tlie  destinies  are  favourable.  The 
Mamelukes — retainers  of  England,  tyrants  of  all  the 
unfortunate  country — soon  after  our  landing  shall 
have  ceased  to  exist. 

"  The  people  with  whom  we  are  about  to  be  con- 
nected are  Mahometans.  The  first  article  of  their 
faith  is  this  : — '  There  is  no  other  God  but  God,  and 
Mahomet  is  his  prophet.'  Do  not  gainsay  them ; 
live  with  them  as  you  have  done  with  the  Jews — 
with  the  Italians ;  pay  the  same  deference  to  their 
muftis  and  their  imaums,  as  you  have  paid  to  the  rab- 
bins and  the  bishops ;  show  to  the  ceremonies  pre- 
scribed by  the  Koran,  and  to  the  mosques,  the  same 
tolerance  as  you  have  shown  to  the  convents  and  the 
synagogues — to  the  religion  of  Moses  and  of  Jesus 
Christ.  The  Roman  legions  protect  all  religions. 
You  will  find  here  usages  difflirent  from  those  of 
Europe  :  it  is  proper  that  you  habituate  yourselves  to 
them. 

"  The  inhabitants  treat  their  women  differently  from 
us ;  but,  in  every  country,  he  who  violates  is  a  mon- 
ster. Pillage  enriches  only  a  few ;  it  dishonours  us, 
destroys  our  resources,  and  renders  enemies  those 
whom  our  interest  requires  to  be  friends.  The  first 
city  we  approach  was  built  by  Alexander;  every  step 
will  awaken  sublime  recollections,  worthy  of  exciting 
the  emulation  of  Frenchmen." 


FRENCH  HISTORY,  247 

To  this  proclamation  was  appended  an  order  of 
the  day,  consisting  of  twelve  articles,  prohibiting  pil- 
lage, as  also  every  species  of  violence,  and  containing 
directions  for  collecting  imposts  and  contributions. 
The  punishments  denounced  upon  delinquents  were 
- — repairing  the  damages  inflicted,  two  years  in  irons, 
and  death.  Here  I  may  be  permitted  a  reflection. 
Passages  in  this  proclamation  have  been  severely 
animadverted  upon  as  contrary  to  the  doctrines  of 
Christianity.  But  how  absurd,  to  have  entered  Egypt 
with  ihe  cross  in  one  hand,  and  the  sword  in  the 
other !  Policy  and  common  sense  required  us  to  re- 
spect the  religion  of  the  inhabitants.  Both  this  and 
other  proclamations  produced  an  excellent  effect. 


Disembarkation  of  the  French  Troops  in  Egypt. 

On  the  arrival  of  the  French  fleet  on  the  Egyptian 
coasts,  Napoleon  wished  the  troops  to  be  landed  im- 
mediately ;  but  admiral  Bruyes  would  not  consent, 
being  afraid  of  the  sea,  then  agitated  by  a  strong  west 
wind ;  but  the  general  felt  the  value  of  the  moments 
which  passed.  He  saw  the  expedition  exposed  on 
the  coast,  and  Alexandria  in  arms,  preparing  for  a 
defence ;  and  he  wished  positively  to  land  in  spite  o 
the  violence  of  the  waves. 

The  fleet  accordingly  anchored;  and  during  the 
evening  and  part  of  the  night,  the  disembarkation 


248  BEAUTIES  OF 

took   place,  a  few  leagues  from  Alexandria,  near  a 
place  called  the  tower  of  Marabout. 

When  Napoleon  wished  to  execute  the  disembar- 
kation without  loss  of  time,  he  said  to  admiral  Bruyes, 
the  moment  he  quitted  the  Orient :  "  We  must  exert 
ourselves  to  open  the  port  of  Alexandria  for  you, 
with  the  least  possible  delay :  and  if  it  be  not  in  a 
condition  to  receive  the  fleet,  we  must  place  you  in 
safely  elsewhere.  You  have  conducted  us  success- 
fully ;  your  task  is  over,  but  ours  only  commences." 
"What!  rejoined  the  brave  Bruyes,  do  you  take  us 
for  common  carriers,  and  our  ships  for  baggage- 
wagons  ?" 

J^ajpole oil's  Alarm  on  his  arrival  at  Alexandria. 

On  the  arrival  of  the  French  expedition  in  the  port 
of  Alexandria,  the  resident  consul  was  immediately 
sent  for.  To  the  great  astonishment  of  his  country- 
men, he  informed  them  that  the  English  fleet  had  made 
its  appearance  the  preceding  day  before  the  port,  had 
demanded  information  with  respect  to  the  French 
fleet,  and  had  then  continued  its  course  towards  Alex- 
andretta.  At  that  very  moment  the  signal  for  vessels 
of  war  was  made,  and  the  order  of  battle  was  given ; 
a  firm  belief  being  entertained  that  the  English  fleet 
was  at  hand. 

Napoleon  at  this  instant  gave  expression  to  the 
uneasiness  which  he  felt.   "  Fortune,"  he  exclaimed, 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  249 

*'  why  hast  thou  favoured  us  so  long  to  abandou  us 
now,  when  former  success  only  adds  to  the  poignan- 
cy of  our  misfortune  ?  In  a  few  moments  Alexandria 
would  have  been  ours,  and  the  whole  of  the  trans- 
ports would  have  been  safe!" 

Happily  for  him  the  signals  were  false ;  the  vessels 
turned  out  to  be  the  French  frigates,  which  had  fallen 
behind,  and  not  the  English  fleet. 

Gaiety  of  the  French  Soldiery. 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  gaiety  of  the  French  sol- 
diery :  if  they  saw  a  young  conscript  sad  and  dejected, 
he  would  soon  be  laughed  and  bantered  out  of  his 
sadness.  Denon  relates,  that  when  the  French  army, 
under  Bonaparte,  arrived  off  the  coast  of  Egypt,  and 
saw  it  stretching  along  the  horizon,  a  perfect  desert, 
— not  a  tree,  nor  a  plant,  nor  any  sign  of  a  human 
habitation  to  be  discovered  as  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach  either  way — far  from  being  dispirited  at  this 
dreary  prospect,  one  of  the  soldiers  drew  a  comrade 
to  the  side  of  the  vessel,  and  pointing  to  it,  said, 
"  Look  ye !  there  are  the  six  acres  which  have  been 
decreed  thee !"  alluding  to  a  promise  of  a  grant  of  land 
to  each  soldier,  on  the  expiration  of  his  service  in 
the  army. 

In  one  of  Bonaparte's  despatches,  he  thus  emphat- 
ically expresses  himself  upon  the  subject :  "  They 
play  and  they  laugh  with  death ;  they  have  now  be- 
come completely  accustomed  to  the  enemy's  cavalry, 


250  BEAUTIES  OF 

"whicli  they  hokl  in  derision;  noihing  can  equal  their 
intrepidity,  unless  it  be  the  gaiety  testified  during  their 
forced  and  harassing  marches;  for  they  sing  by  turns 
in  honour  of  their  country  and  their  mistresses. 
When  arrived  at  the  bivouac,  you  would  think,  at 
least,  that  they  would  repose.  Such,  however,  is  not 
the  case ;  each  tells  his  story,  or  forms  liis  plan  of 
operations  for  the  morrow  ;  and  it  is  frequently  as- 
certained that  many  of  them  have  made  a  juit  cal- 
<nilation." 

Turkish   Humanity  towards   the   French   Army  in 
Egypt. 

When  Bonaparte  sailed  with  his  army  for  Egypt, 
a  number  of  the  most  eminent  of  the  French  literati 
accompanied  him,  in  order  to  make  research  into  the 
antiquities,  manners,  customs,  and  literature  of  that 
famous  country.  Tliese  labours  they  executed  with 
the  most  astonishing  assiduity,  even  amidst  all  the 
dangers  of  war.  But  the  Institute  had  remained  at 
Cairo  only  a  month,  when  their  house  was  pillaged, 
in  a  general  insurrection  of  the  inhabitants  ;  firing  was 
heard  in  different  places,  and  many  persons  belonging 
to  the  Commission  of  Arts  fell  a  sacrifice  to  the  fury 
of  llie  populace.  After  considerable  slaughter,  how- 
ever, it  was  quelled  the  second  day,  by  means  of  some 
heavy  artillery.  "Through  the  populace,"  says 
Denon,  "  the  devotees,  and  some  of  the  great  people 
of  Cairo  showed  themselves  fanatical  and  cruel  in 


FRENCH  HISTORY.  251 

tills  revolt,  the  middle  class  (wliicli  is  in  all  countries 
llic  most  accessible  to   reason  and  virtue)  was   per- 
{vcAy  humane  and  generous  to  us,  notwithstanding  the 
wide  difierence  of  manners,  religion,  and  language; 
■ — whilst  from  the  galleries  of  the  minarets  murder 
was  devoutly  preached   up — whilst  the  streets  were 
filled  with    death    and  carnage,  all  those  in  whose 
houses  any  Frenchmen  were  lodged,  were  eager  to 
save  them  by  concealment,  and  lo  supply  and  antici- 
pate   all    their  wants.     An    elderly  woman,  in    the 
quarter  in  which  we  lodged,  gave  us  to  understand, 
tliai,  as  our  walls  vi^as  but  weak,  if  we  were  attacked, 
Ave  only  had  to  throw  it  down,  and  seek  for  shelter 
in  her  harem  :  a  neighbour,  without  being  asked,  sent 
us  provisions  at  the  expense  of  his  own  store,  when 
no  food  was  to  be  purchased  in  the  town,  and  every 
thing  announced  approaching  famine;  he  even  re- 
moved   every  thing    from    before  our  house   which 
could  render  it  conspicuous  to  the  enemy,  and  went  to 
smoke  at  our  door,  as  if  it  were  his  own  in  order  to 
deceive  any  who  might  attack  us.     Two  young  per- 
sons, who  were  pursued  in  the  streets,  were  snatched 
up  by  some  unknown  people,  and  carried  into  a  house, 
and  whilst  they  were  furiously  struggling  for  deliver- 
ance, expecting  that  they  were  destined  for  some  hor- 
rible cruelty,  the  kind  ravishers,  not  being  able  other- 
wise to  convince  them  of  the  hospitable  benevolence 
of  their  intentions  delivered  up  to  them  their  own 
children,  as  pledges  of  their  sincerity. 


252  BEAUTIES  OF,  8tC. 

"  If  the  grave  mussulman  represses  those  tokens 
of  sensibility,  which  other  nations  would  take  a  pride 
in  exhibiting,  it  is  in  order  to  preserve  the  dignified 
austerity  of  his  character." 

His  Return  from  Egypt. 

When  the  news  of  his  arrival  reached  Marseilles, 
the  event  was  celebrated  with  a  general  illumination, 
bonfires,  and  other  demonstrations  of  joy. 

But  an  impulse  of  a  very  different  nature  seized  the 
minds  of  the  magistracy  of  Toulon.  It  was  known 
there  that  the  plague  had  made  considerable  ravages 
among  the  army  in  Egypt;  and  when  the  news  cir- 
culated that  Bonaparte  had  landed  at  Frejus,  and  pro- 
ceeded immediately  to  Paris,  without  the  vessel  or 
any  of  the  crew  having  been  subjected  to  the  usual 
quarantine,  couriers  were  sent  after  him  with  orders 
not  to  stop  on  tlie  road  upon  any  consideration  till 
they  had  overtaken  him,  and  to  bring  him  and  his 
companions  back,  that  they  might  be  put  into  quaran- 
tine. But  Bonaparte  had  got  so  much  the  start  of 
them,  and  pursued  his  journey  with  so  much  alacrity, 
that  he  arrived  at  Paris  long  before  them ;  and  the 
memorable  events  which  crowded  upon  each  other 
from  the  moment  of  his  arrival,  soon  turned  the 
public  attention  from  all  other  objects  to  fix  it  on 
them  alone, 

THE  EJfD. 


HARPER'S  FAMILY  LIBRARY. 

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POPULAR  AMERICAN  WORKS 

FOR  FAMILY  READING, 

RECENTLY   PUBLISHED   BV 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  NEW-YORK. 


I. 

FORECASTLE  TOM  ;  OR,  THE  LANDSMAN  TURNED  SAILOR. 

BY  MRS.  MARY  S.  B.  DANA — 18mo,  muslin  gilt,  37A  cents. 

A  delightfnl  little  domestic  story,  which  commends  itself  strongly  to 
the  attention  of  the  reader  by  its  unaffected  simplicity.  It  inculcates 
morality,  religion,  and  temperance,  in  a  most  attractive  manner. — Balti- 
more American. 

This  is  d  very  ielightful  moral  story,  portraying  the  adventures  of  a 
sailor's  li  e,  and  that  change  of  heart  which  fits  the  voyager  on  the  tem- 
pestuous ocean  of  this  world's  hopes  to  moor  his  bark  finally  in  the  haven 
of  eternal  rest.  There  is  much  mstruction  as  well  as  interesting  narra- 
tive to  be  found  in  these  pages. — North  American. 

II. 

THE  YOUNG  SAILOR,    A  NARRATIVE  FOUNDED  ON  FACT. 

BY  MRS.  MARY  S.  B.  DANA.— I8mo,  muslin  gilt,  374  cents. 

This  is  a  story  of  no  ordinary  interest,  consisting  of  a  series  of  perilous 
adventures,  depicting  crime  and  its  consequences  vvith  a  skill  at  once  ar- 
tistical  and  powerful,  and  portraying  the  sweet  influences  of  Christianity 
in  all  their  beauty  and  loveliness.  A  parent  could  scarcely  find  a  more 
instructive  tale  for  his  children,  and  young  men  might  derive  influences 
from  its  perusal  that  would  save  them  many  a  heartache. — Auburn  Jour- 
nal. 

III. 

AYEARWITH   THE   FRANKLINS;OR,  TOSUF- 
FER   AND    BE   STRONG. 

BY  E.  JANE  OATE.— 18mo,  musliugilt. 
IV. 

ELIZABETH    BENTON;    OR,    RELIGION    IN    CONNECTION 
WITH  FASHIONABLE  LIFE. 

18mo,  muslin  gilt. 


}  POPULAR   AMERICAN   WORKS 

V. 

PHILANTHROPY;  OR,  MY  MOTHER'S  BIBLE. 

A    NARRATIVE   FOUNDED    ON    AN    INCIDENT    WHICH    HAPPENED 

IN    NEW-YORK. 

18mo,  muslin  gilt,  37J  cents. 

Exceedingly  well  adapted  to  impress  the  minds  of  youth  with  senti- 
ments of  morality  and  a  love  of  virtue.  The  author  has  most  happily 
blended  simple  but  thrilling  incidents  with  excellent  religious  princi- 
ples and  motives,  in  a  manner  which  can  not  fail  to  recommend  the  work 
to  public  favor. — Evening  Gazette. 

VI. 

THE   BLIND   GIRL,   AND   OTHER  TALES. 

BY  EMMA  C.   EMBURY.— 18mo,  muslin  gilt,  37^  cents. 

A  book  which  will  absorb  with  its  touching  interest,  and  the  reader 
will  find  profit  combined  with  the  pleasure,  for  none  can  peruse  these 
tales  without  acknowledging  the  force  of  the  teachings  they  inculcate.— 
Evening  Gazette. 

VII. 

ISABEL;    OR,    TRIALS    OF    THE    HEART.     A 
TALE   FOR  THE  YOUNG. 

18mo,  muslin  gilt,  37i  cents. 
VIII. 

THE  TWIN  BROTHERS;  OR,  LESSONS  OF  CHARITY. 

18mo,  muslin  gilt,  37i  cents. 

The  story  contained  in  this  book  abounds  with  interesting  incidents  to 
keep  the  attention  awake,  and  suggests  many  important  lessons  to  reward 
a  diligent  perusal.  There  is  a  simplicity  and  truthfulness  about  the 
characters  which  beguiles  the  reader  into  an  impression  that  he  is  occu- 
pied with  a  narrative  of  veritable  facts.  It  teaches  the  young,  in  a  most 
persuasive  manner,  the  importance  of  right  principles  of  action,  and 
shows  them  the  extreme  danger  of  ever  beginning  to  wander  from  the 
path  of  honor  and  integrity. — Evangelist. 

IX. 

KEEPING    HOUSE    AND    HOUSEKEEPING.     A 
STORY   OF    DOMESTIC   LIFE. 

EDITED  BY  MRS.  S.  J.  HALE.— 18mo,  musUn  gilt,  37i  cents. 


FOR    FAMILY    READING. 
X. 

RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A   HOUSEKEEPER. 

BY  MRS.  C.  GILMAN.— 18mo,  muslin  gilt,  45  cents. 
XI. 

THE  MAYFLOWER;   OR,  SKETCHES  OF  SCENES  AND   IN- 
CIDENTS AMONG  THE  DESCENDANTS  OF  THE  PILGRIMS. 

BY  MRS.  HARRIET  B.  STOWE.— 18mo,  muslin  gilt,  45  cents. 

A  series  of  beautiful  and  deeply  interesting  tales,  remarkable  for  a 
Yigirous  yet  disciplined  imagination,  a  lively  and  pure  style,  and  tbeir 
high  moral  tone.  They  are  books  which  will  interest  mature  readers  as 
well  as  children  and  youth.  As  an  author  she  will  take  her  place  among 
that  fine  and  elevated  class  to  which  Miss  Sedgwick  and  Mrs.  Child  be- 
long ;  authors  whose  writings  unite  with  the  graces  of  composition  a 
deep  sympathy  with  all  that  is  human,  and  a  noble  philanthropy. — Bib- 
lical Repository. 

XII. 

CONQUESTAND  SELF-CONQUEST;  OR,  WHICH 
MAKES   THE   HERO? 

18mo,  muslin  gilt,  37J  cents. 

An  admirable  volume  ;  admirable  in  style,  in  sentiment,  and  in  ten- 
dency.—  Courier  and  Enquirer. 

XIII. 

THE   COUSINS.     A  TALE  OF   EARLY   LIFE. 

By  the  Author  of  "  Conquest  and  Self-Conquest." — 18mo,  37J  cents. 

We  have  read  this  volume  with  unmingled  satisfaction.  It  is  replete 
with  instruction,  not  only  for  the  young,  but  for  all  who  are  concerned 
to  know  and  judge  their  motives  of  life.  We  thank  the  author  for  her 
nice  and  interesting  discriminations  between  the  motives  of  conduct. 
Indeed,  we  do  not  know  of  any  works  of  this  description  from  the  Amer- 
ican press  which  are  entitled  to  a  more  just  popularity  than  those  which 
have  proceeded  from  the  pen  of  this  writer.  They  place  her  beside  the 
Edgeworths,andthe  Barbaulds,  and  the  Opies,  who  have  so  long  delight- 
ed and  instructed  our  children  and  us. — New-York  Observer. 

XIV. 

PRAISE  AND  PRINCIPLE;  OR,  FOR  WHAT  SHALL  I  LIVE? 

By  the  Author  of  "  Conquest  and  Self-Conquest." — I8mo,  37|  cents. 

A  book  most  worthy  to  be  put  into  the  hands  of  youth  engaged  in  their 
educational  course,  and  can  not  but  inspire  the  love  of  truth  and  good- 
ness for  their  own  sakes. — Biblical  Repository.. 

This  little  work  is  designed  to  inculcate  upon  the  minds  of  youth  the 
importance  of  a  steadfast  adherence  to  principle  in  the  concerns  of  life  ; 
and  among  "  children  of  a  larger  growth"  its  perusal  may  afford  both 
pleasure  and  improvement. — Bedford  Mercury. 


POPULAR    AMERICAN    WORKS 
XV. 

WOMAN  AN  ENIGMA;  OR,  LIFE  AND  ITS  REVEALINGS. 

By  the  Author  of  "  Conquest  and  Self-Conquest." — ISmo,  37J  cents. 

For  truthfulness  of  natural  delineation  and  high  moral  tone,  these 
works  are  unexcelled. — North  American. 
■<  •  ■; 

XVI. 

WEALTH  AND  WORTH;  OR,  WHICH  MAKES  THE  MAN? 

18mo,  muslin  gilt,  45  cents. 

Lively  in  narrative,  interesting  in  incident,  and  ingenious  in  construc- 
tion, the  work  is  at  the  same  lime  a  safe  guide  to  the  young  in  the  path 
[0  happiness,  honor,  and  usefulness. — New-York  Observer. 

XVII. 

WHAT'S  TO  BE  DONE?  OR.  THE  WILL  AND  THE  WAY. 

By  the  Author  of  "  Wealth  and  Worth." — 18mo,  muslin  gilt,  45  cents. 

Well  calculated  for  old  or  young,  but  more  especially  to  encourage  the 
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Newburg  Courier 

XVIIL 

LOVERS  AND  HUSBANDS.    A  STORY  OF  MARRIED  LIFE. 

BY  T.  S.  ARTHUR.— ]8mo,  muslin  gilt,  37J  cemts. 
XIX. 

SWEETHEARTS    AND    WIVES;    OR,    BEFORE 
AND  AFTER   MARRIAGE. 

BY  T.  S.  ARTHUR,— 18mo,  muslin  gilt,  Srj  cents. 
XX. 

MARRIED  AND  SINGLE. 

BY  T.  S.  ARTHUR.— 18mo,  muslin  gilt,  37J  cents. 

These  works  are  well  written,  full  of  pleasing  incident,  and  abounding 
■with  excellent  moral  lessons,  suggestive  of  many  points  of  importance  to 
those  who  are  about  to  enter  upon  the  active  scenes  of  life. — Post. 

XXL 

WILTON  HARVEY,  AND  OTHERTALES. 

BY  MISS  SEDGrWIOK.— 18mo,  muslin  gilt,  45  cents. 


FOR    FAMILY    READING. 
XXII. 

THE  POOR  RICH  MAN  AND  THE  RICH  POOR  MAN. 

BY  MISS  SEDG-WIOK.—lSmo,  muslin  gilt,  45  cents. 

We  recognize  in  these  books  feminine  skill  and  delicacy  of  delineation, 
■with  unusual  discrimination  of  character  and  knowledge  of  the  heart. 
Another  high  recommendation  is  their  marked  religious  tone. — Norwich 
Courier 

XXIII. 

LIVE   AND   LET   LIVE;   OR,    DOMESTIC   SER- 
VICE  ILLUSTRATED. 

BY  MISS  SEDGWICK.— 18mo,  muslin  gilt,  45  cents. 

Every  person  would  be  benefited  mentallj'  and  morally  by  a  perusal  of 
this  book  ;  it  is  full  of  graphic  delineation  and  touching  pathos. —  True 
Sun 

XXIV. 

A   LOVE   TOKEN   FOR   CHILDREN. 

BY  MISS  SEDGWICK.— ISmo,  muslin  gilt,  45  cents. 

These  sketches,  from  the  pen  of  one  of  the  best  writers  in  the  country, 
commend  themselves  to  the  public  with  no  ordinary  force. — Evangelist. 

XXV. 

STORIES   FOR   YOUNG   PERSONS. 

BY  MISS  SEDGWICK.— 18mo,  muslin  gilt,  45  cents. 

There  is  a  sweetness  and  sociability  in  her  stories  we  meet  with  no- 
where else  — Newburg  Courier. 

Her  writings  are  always  well  worth  reading.  These  stories  are  .de- 
signed for  the  young  more  particularly,  but  the  quiet  good  sense  and 
sterling  principle  they  contain  will  make  them  acceptable  to  maturer 
minds. — Herald. 

These  are  beautiful  stories,  full  of  graphic  delineation  and  touching 
pathos  :  extremely  well  conceived  and  executed. — True  Sun, 

XXVI. 

MEANS   AND   ENDS;   OR,   SE  L  F  •  TR  A  I  N  I  N  G. 

BY  MISS  SEDGWICK.— 18mo,  muslin  gilt,  45  cents. 

A  very  interesting  collection,  all  of  which  point  an  excellent  moral. 
We  suppose  few  could  read  these  works  without  acknowledging  they 
were  not  only  deeply  interested,  but  that  they  felt  the  force  of  the  lessons 
Ihey  inculcate. — Herald. 


Harper  &  Brothers,  New- York,  have  recently  issued 
a  new  and  complete  Catalogue  of  their  Publications,  which 
will  be  forwarded  free  of  charge  to  any  part  of  the  United 
States,  upon  application  to  them  personally,  or  by  mail, 
post  paid.  The  attention  of  gentlemen  forming  Libraries, 
either  public  or  private,  is  particularly  solicited  to  this 
Catalogue,  which  comprises  about  fifteeji  hundred  volumes, 
embracing  the  best  works  in  the  several  departments  of 
Literature,  including  History,  Philosophy,  Science  and 
Art,  Biography,  Travel,  the  Classics,  Belles-Lettres,  Re- 
ligion, Medicine,  Classical  and  School  Books,  &c. ;  the 
works  being  neatly,  and  in  many  instances  elegantly 
printed  and  substantially  bound,  yet  offered  at  the  lowest 
terms,  averaging  less  than  one  half  the  price  of  the  Eng- 
lish editions.  Persons  wishing  to  form  libraries  or  to  pur- 
chase books  to  sell  again,  will  be  Supplied  on  the  best 
terms  when  the  money  accompanies  the  order. 

March,  1846.     82  Cliff-street,  New-York. 


This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last 
date  stamped  below. 


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